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THE 

RAMAYAN  OF  VALMIKI 

H 

TRANSLATED  INTO  ENGLISH  VERSE 

BY 

RALPH  T.  H.  GRIFFITH,  M.A..C.I.E. 

FORMER  PRINCIPAL  OF  THE  BENARES  COLLEGE,  AND  LATE  DIRECTOR 
PUBLIC  INSTRUCTION  N.-W.  P.  AND  OUDH. 


COMPLETE  IN  ONE  VOLUME. 


BENARES : 

PRINTED   AND    PUBLISHED   BY   E.    J.    LAZARUS   AND   CO. 

SOLD  ALSO  BY 
LUZAC   AND    CO.,    LONDON. 


1895. 
All  rights  reserved. 


750 
\Jf96 


V-YI 


u  y\ 


n  < 

Qi 


TO 

THE  HONOURABLE 
SIR  WILLIAM  MUIR,  K.  C.  B.  I.,  LL.  D. 

LIEUTENANT-GOVERNOR  OF  THE  NORTH-WESTERN 
PROVINCES  OF  INDIA 

THIS  TRANSLATION 

OF 

• 

THE  GREAT  EPIC  POEM  OF  THE  HINDUS 
IS  RESPECTFULLY  INSCRIBED. 


M31887 


CONTENTS. 


Page 


Dedication. 

Introduction. 

Invocation. 


BOOK  I. 

CANTO  i.— Narad. 

i{._  Brahma's  Visit, 
iii. — The  Argument. 
jv>__The  Rhapsodista. 
v. — Ayodhya. 
vi.—The  King. 

•       vii.—The  Ministers, 
viii.—  Sumantra's  Speech.  ... 
ix.— Rishyasring. 
x.— Rishyasring  Invited.    ... 
xi.— The    Sacrifice  Decreed, 
xii.— The  Sacrifice  Begun... 
xiii.— The  Sacrifice  Finished, 
xiv.— Ravan  Doomed, 
xv.— The  Nectar, 
xvi.-The  Vanars, 
xvii.— Rishyasring's  Return, 
xviii.— Rishyasring's  Depar- 

ture. 

xix.— The  Birth  of  thePrinces. 
xx.— Visvamitra's  Visit.    ... 
xxi.— Visvamitra's  Speech... 
xxii.— Dasaratha's  Speech.... 
xxiii.— -Vasishtha's  Speech, 
xxiv.— The  Spells, 
xxv.— The  Hermitage  of  Love, 
xxvi.— The  Forest  of  Tadaka. 
xxvii.— The  Birth  of  Tadaka. 
xxviii.— The  Death  of  Tadaka. 
xxix.— The  Celestial  Arms.  .. 
xxx.— The  Mysterious  Powers, 
xxxi.— The  Perfect  Hermitage. 
xxxii. — Visvamitra's  Sacrifice, 
xxxiii.— The  Sone. 
xxxiv. — Brahmadatta. 
xxxv. — Visvamitra's  Lineage, 
xxxvi. — The  Birth  of  Ganga. 
xxxix.— The  Sons  of  Sagar. 
xl.— The  01  caving  of  the  Earth, 
xli.— Kapil. 
xlii. — Sagar's  Sacrifice. 


Page 

3ANTO  xlii  i.— P>hagi  rath.  ...      53 

xliv. — The  Descent  of  Ganga.  54 
xlv.— The  Quest  of  the  Amrit.  56 
xlvi.—  Diti's  Hope.  ...  58 

xlvii.— Sumati.  ...      59 

xlviii. — Indra  and  Ahalya.  60 
xlix.— Ahalya  Freed.  ...  61 
1.— Janak.  ...  6l 

li.— Visvamitra.  ...      62 

Iii.— Vasishtha's  Feast.  ...  63 
liii. — Visvamitra's  Request.  64 
liv.— The  Battle.  ...  65 

lv.— The  Hermitage  Burnt.  66 
Ivi. — Visvamitra's  Vow.  ...  67 
Ivii.— Trisanku.  ...  68 

Iviii. — Trisanku  Cursed.  ...  69 
lix.— The  Sons  of  Vasishtha.  70 
Ix.— Trisanku's  Ascension. ...  71 
Ixi. — Sunahsepha.  ...  72 

Ixii. — Ambarisha's  Sacrifice.      73 

Ixiii. — Menaka.  ...      74 

Ixiv. — Rambha.  ...      75 

Ixv.— Visvamitra's  Triumph.     76 

Ixvi. — Janak's  Speech.       ...      77 

Ixvii. — The  Breaking  of  the 
Bow. 

Ixviii.— The  Envoys' Speech. 

Ixix. —  Dasaratha's  Visit.   ... 

Ixx.— The  Maidens  Sought. 

Ixxi. — Janak's  Pedigree.     ... 

Ixxii.— The  Gift  of  Kine.  ... 

Ixxiii. — The  Nuptials. 

Ixxiv. — Rama  with  the  Axe. 

Ixxv.— The  Parle. 

Ixxvi.— Debarred        from 
Heaven, 

Ixxvii.— Bharat's  Departure. 

BOOK  II. 

CANTO  i.— The  Heir  Apparent.      ... 
ii.— The  People's  Speech.   ... 
iii.— Dasaratha's  Precepts. ... 
iv.— Rama  Summoned, 
v. — Rama's  Fast, 
vi.— The  City  Decorated.    ... 
vii.— Manthara's  Lament. ... 


Page 

CANTO  viii.— Manthara's  Speech.  ...      97 
ix.— The  Plot.  ...      98 

x.— Dasaratha's  Speech.  ...  100 
xi.— The  Queen's  Demand. ...  102 
xii. — Dagaratha's  Lament. ...  103 
xiii.—  Uaaaratha's  Distress.  106 
xiv.— Rama  Summoned.  ...  107 
xv. — Tlie  Preparations.  ...  109 
xvi.— Rama  Summoned.  ...  Ill 
xvii. — Rama's  Approach.  ...  112 
xviii.— The  Sentence.  ...  113 
xix.— Rama's  Promise.  ...  114 
xx.— Kausalya's  Lament.  ...  116 
xxi.— Kausalya  Calmed.  ...  118 
xxii. — Lakshman  Calmed. ...  120 
xxii.— Lakshman's  Anger.  121 
xxiv. — Kausalya  Calmed.  ...  122 
xxv.— Kausalya  s  Blessing.  124 
xxvi.— Alone  with  Sita.  ...  125 
xxvii.— Sita's  Speech.  ...  126 
xxviii. — The  Dangers  of  the 

Wood 127 

xxix.— Sita's  Appeal.  ...  128 
xxx.— The  Triumph  of  Love.  129 
xxxi,— Lakshman's  Prayer.  131 
xxxii.— The  Gift  of  the 

Treasures 132 

xxxiii.— The  People's  Lament.  133 
xxxiv.— llama  in  the  Palace.  134 
xxxv.— Kaikeyi  Reproached.  136 
xxxvi.— Siddharth's  Speech.  137 
xxxvii.— The  Coats  of  Bark.  138 
xxxviii. — Care  for  Kausalya.  139 
xxxix.— Counsel  to  Sita.  ...  140 
xl.— Rama's  Departure.  ...  141 
xli.— The  Citizens'  Lament.  143 
xlii.— Dasaratha's  Lament.  144 
xliii. — Kausalya's  Lament.  145 
xliv. — Sumitra's  Speech.  ...  143 
xlv.— The  Tamasa.  ...  147 

xlvi.— The  Halt 148 

xlvii.— The  Citizens'  Return.  149 
xlviii.— The  Women's  Lament  150 
xlix.— The  Crossing  of  the 

Rivers lol 

1.— The  Halt  under  the  Ingudi.  15 1 
H. — Lakshman's  Lament. ...  153 
Hi.— The  Crossing  of  Ganga.  153 
liii.— Rama's  Lament.  ...  157 
liv.— Bharai  vaj  a'a  Hennitage.153 


Page 
CANTO  lv.— The  Passage  of  YamunA.  159 

Ivi. — Ohitrakuta 161 

Ivii.— Sumantra's  Return.  102 
Iviii.— Rama's  Message.  ...  163 
lix — Dasaratha's  Lament.  164 
Ix.— Kausalya  Consoled.  ...  165 
Ixi— Kauaalya's  Lament.  ...  166 
Ixii. — Dasaratha  Consoled.  167 
Ixiii.— The  Hermit's  Son  ...  168 
Ixiv.— Daaaratha's  Death.  170 
Ixv.— The  Women's  Lament.  172 
Ixvi,— The  Embalming.  ...  173 
Ixvii.— The  Praise  of  Kings.  174 
Ixviii.— The  Envoys.  ...  175 
Ixix.— Bharat's  Dream.  ...  176 
Ixx.— Bharat's  Departure.  177 
Ixxi.— Bharat's  Return.  ...  178 
Ixxii.— Bharat's  Inquiry.  ...  180 
Ixxiii.— Kaikeyi  Reproached.  181 
Ixxiv.—Bharat's  Lament  ...  182 
Ixxv.— The  Abjuration.  ...  183 
Ixxvi.— The  Funeral.  ...  185 
Ixxvii.— The  Gathering  of  the 

Ashes 186 

Ixxviii.— Manthara  Punished.  187 
Ixxix.— Bharat's  Commands.  188 
Ixxx.— The  Way  Prepared.  188 
Ixxxi.— The  Assembly.  ...  189 
Ixxxii.— The  Departure.  ...  190 
Ixxxiii.— The  Journey  Begun.  191 
Ixxxiv.— Guha's  Auger.  ...  192 
Ixxxv.— Guhaand  Bharat.  192 
Ixxxvi.— Guha's  Speech.  ...  193 
Ixxxvii.— Guha's  Story  ...  194 
Ixxxviii. — The  Ingudi  Tree.  195 
Ixxxix. — The  Passage  of 

Ganga 193 

xc.— The  Hermitage.  ...  197 
xci.— Bharadvaja's  Feast  ..  197 
xcii.— Bharat's  Farewell.  ...  200 
xciii. — Chitrakuta  in  Sight.  201 
xciv.— Chitrakuta.  ...  202 

xcv. — Mandakini 203 

xcvi.— The  Magic  Shaft.  ...  204 
xcvii. — Lakshman's  Anger.  206 
xcviii.— Lakshman  Calmed.  207 
xcix, — Bharat's  Approach.  208 

c.— The  Meeting 209 

ci.— Bharat  Questioned.  ...  210 
cii,— Bharat's  Tidings.  ...  211 


CONTENTS. 


CANTO  ciii.— The  Funeral  Libation 
civt — The  Meeting  with  the 

Queens 

cv. — Rama's  Speech 

cvi.— Bharat's  Speech, 
cvii.— Rama's  Speech, 
cviii.— Javali's  Speech, 
cix.— The  Praises  of  Truth, 
ex.— The  Sons  of  Ikshvaku. 
cxi. — Counsel  to  Bharat.  ... 

cxii.— The  Sandals 

cxiii.— Bharat's  Return.    ... 
cxiv.—Bharat's  Departure, 

cxv.— Nandigram 

cxvi. — The  Hermit's  Speech 
cxvii. — Anasuya. 
cxviii.— Anasuya's  Gifts, 
cxix. — The  Forest. 

BOOK  III. 

TO  i. — The  Hermitage, 
ii. — Viradha. 
iii. — Viradha  Attacked, 
iv.— Viradha's  Death. 
v.— Sarabhanga. 
vi. — Rama's  Promise, 
vii. — Sutikshna. 
•viii.— The  Hermitage, 
ix,— Sita's  Speech. 
x. — Rama's  Reply, 
xi.— Agastya. 
xii.— The  Heavenly  Bow. 
xiii.— Agastya's  Counsel, 
xiv. — Jatayus. 
xv. — Pane  hav  ati. 
xvi. —  Winter, 
x  vii.— Surpanakha. 
xviii. — The  Mutilation. 
xix, — The  Rousing  of  Khara. 
xx.— The  Giants'  Death, 
xxi.— The  Rousing  of  Khara. 
xxii.— Khara's  Wrath, 
xxiii. — The  Omens, 
xxiv. — The  Host  in  Sight, 
xxv.— The  Battle, 
xxvi. — Dushan's  Death, 
xxvii. — The  Death  of  Trisiras. 
xxviii. — Khara  Dismounted, 
xxix. — Khara's  Defeat, 
xxx.— Khara's  Death. 


Page 

Page 

,   211 

CANTO  xxxi.—  Ravan.                    ...    265 

xxxii.—  Ravan  Roused.       ...    267 

213 

xxxiii.  —  Surpanakha's  Speech.  268 

214 

xxxiv.  —  Surpanakha's  Speech.  269 

215 

xxxv.  —  Ravan's  Journey.   ...     270 

216 

xxxvi.—  Ravan's  Speech.    ...    271 

217 

xxxvii.  —  Marie  ha's  Speech.      272 

217 

xxxviii.  —  Marieha's  Speech.    273 

219 

xxxix.—  Marioha's  Speech.       274 

220 

xl.  —  Ravan's  Speech.           ...    275 

221 

xli.—Mancha's  Reply.  '      ...    276 

222 

xlii.  —  Maricha  Transformed.  277 

223 

xliii.—  The  Wondrous  Deer.     278 

224 

xliv.—  Maricha's  Death.     ...    280 

i.  225 

xlv.  —  Lakshman's  Departure.  281 

226 

xlvi.—  The  Guest.                ...    282 

226 

xlvii.  —  Ravan's  Wooing.            284 

228 

xlviii.  —  Ravan's  Speech.    ...    285 

xlix  .—  The  Rape  of  Sita.    ...    286 

1.—  Jatayus.                          ...    288 

,    229 

15.—  The  Combat.                ...    289 

.     230 

Iii.—  Ravan's  Flight.          ...    290 

.    231 

liii.—  Sita's  Threats.           ...    292 

.    232 

liv.—  Lanka.                        ...    293 

.    233 

Iv.  —  Sita  in  Prison.            ...    294 

235 

Ivi.—  Sita's  Disdain.            ...    295 

.    236 

Ivii.—  Sita  Comforted.        ...    293 

.    237 

Iviii.  —  The  Brothers'  Meeting.  297 

.    237 

lix.  —  Rama's  Return.           ..    298 

.    239 

Ix.  —  Lakshman  Reproved.        299 

.    239 

]xi.—  .Rama's  Lament.        ...    300 

.    243 

Ixii.  —  Rama's  Lament.       ...    301 

.    244 

Ixiii.  —  Rama's  Lament.      ...    302 

.    245 

Ixiv.  —  Rama's  Lament.      ...    303 

.    247 

Ixv.—  Rama's  Wrath.          ...    304 

.    248 

Ixvi.—  Lakshman's  Speech.       306 

249 

Ixvii.  —  Rama  Appeased.     ...    307 

250 

Ix  viii.—  Jatayus.                  ...    308 

i.  251 

Ixix.—  The  Death  of  Jatayus.    309 

252 

Ixx.—  Kabandha.                 ...    310 

i.  253 

Ixxi.—  Kabandha's  Speech.       312 

254 

Ixxii.—  Kabandha's  Tale.   ...    312 

255 

Ixxiii.—  Kabandha's  Counsel.  314 

256 

Ixxiv.—  Kabandha's  Death.       315 

257 

Ixxv.  —  £avari.           316 

259 

Ixxvi.—  Pampa  317 

ts.  260 

.    261 

BOOK  IV. 

,    262 

CANTO  i.—  Rama's  Lament.           ...    319 

,    263 

ii.—Sugriva's  Alarm.         ...    324 

Page 

CANTO  Ixxv.—The  Night  Attack. .  .  434 
xciii. — Ravan's  Lament.  ...  485 
xcvi.— Ravan's  Sally.  ...  486 
c.—  Ravan  in  the  Field.  ...  487 
ci.— Lakshman's  Fall.  ...  487 
cii. — Lakshman  Healed.  ...  4S8 
ciii. — Indra's  Car.  ...  488 
cvi.— Glory  to  the  Sun.  ...  489 
cviii— The  Battle.  ...  490 
cix.— The  Battle  ...  491 
ex. — llavan's  Death.  ...  491 
cxi. — Vibhishan's  Lament ...  491 
cxii.— The  Rakshas  Dames.  492 
cxiii. — Mandodari's  Lament.  492 
cxiv. — Vibhishan  Conse- 
crated. '  ...  493 
cxv. — Sita's  Joy.  ...  494 
cxvi. — The  Meeting.  ...  495 
cxvii.— Sita's  Disgrace.  ...  495 


CANTO  cxviii.—  Sita's  Keply. 

cxix.— Glory  to  Vishnu.     ... 
cxx.— Sita  Restored.' 

cxxi.— Dasaratha 

cxxii. — Indra's  Boon, 
cxxiii. — The  Magic  Car.    ... 
cxxiv. — The  Departure. 
cxxv. — The  Return. 
cxxvi. — Bharat  Consoled. ... 

cxxvii — Rama's  Message 

cxxviii. — Hanuiuan's  Story, 
cxxix. — The  Meeting  with 

Bharat. 
cxxx. — The  Consecration. 


APPENDIX 

Uttarakanda. 
Additional  Notes. 
Index  of  Principal  Names. 


NOTE. 


a  is  pronounced  like  u     in  fun. 

a  II  ke  a     in  father. 

e  like  a     in  fate. 

i  like  i      in  fill. 

i  like  ee    in  feel. 

u  like  u     in  full. 

u  like  u     in  flute, 

ai  like  i      in  fire, 

au  like  ou  in  foul. 

y     is  a  consonant  only. 
&     is  pronounced  nearly  as  sh. 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  subject  of  the  Ramayan,  the  great  national  epic  of  the  Hindus,  their  one  com- 
mon and  everlasting  possesssion.  is,  as  the  name  implies,1  the  life  and  adventures  of 
Ratna.  These  adventures  are  briefly  summarized  in  the  introductory  cantos  of  the 
poem  and  do  not  require  to  be  dwelt  upon  here.  The  great  exploit  and  main  subject 
of  the  epic  is  the  war  which  Rama  waged  with  the  giant  Ravan.  the  fierce  and  mighty 
King  of  Lanka  or  Ceylon  and  the  dread  oppressor  of  Gods  and  nymphs  and  saints  and 
men.  '  The  army,'  to  borrow  the  words  of  Gorresio,  '  which  Rama  led  on  this  expedi- 
tion was,  as  appears  from  the  poern,  gathered  in  great  part  from  the  region  of  the 
Vindhyan  hills,  but  the  races  which  he  assembled  are  represented  in  the  poem  as 
monkeys,  either  out  of  contempt  for  their  barbarism  or  because  at  that  time  they 
•were  little  known  to  the  Sanskrit-speaking  Hindus,  The  people  against  whom  Rama 
waged  war  are,  as  the  poem  indicates  in  many  places,  different  in  origin,  in  civiliza- 
tion, and  in  worship,  from  the  Sanskrit  Indians  ;  but  the  poet  of  the  Ramayan,  in 
this  respect  like  Homer  who  assigns  to  Troy  customs,  creeds,  and  worship  similar  to 
those  of  Greece,  places  in  Ceylon,  the  seat  of  this  alien  and  hostile  people,  names, 
habits,  and  worship  similar  to  those  of  Sanskrit.  India.  The  poet  calls  the  people 
whom  Rama  attacked  Rakshasas.  Rakshasas,  according  to  the  popular  Indian  be- 
lief, are  malignant  beings,  demons  of  many  shapes,  terrible  and  cruel,  who  disturb 
the  sacrifices  and  the  religious  rites  of  the  Brahmans.  It  appears  indubitable  that 
the  poet  of  the  Ramayan  applied  the  hated  name  of  Rakshasas  to  an  abhorred  and 
hostile  people,  and  that  this  denomination  is  here  rather  an  expression  of  hatred  and 
horror  than  a  real  historical  name. 

Such,  reduced  to  its  bare  simplicity,  is  the  fundamental  idea  of  the  Ramayan, 
a  war  of  two  hostile  races  di ffering  in  origin,  civilization,  and  worship.  But.  as  is 
the  case  in  all  primitive  epopeas,  around  this  idea  as  a  nucleus  have  gathered 
elements  of  every  kind  drawn  from  the  very  vitals  of  Indian  tradition,  and  worked 
up  by  the  ancient  poet  to  embody  his  lofty  epic  conception.  The  epopea  received 
and  incorporated  the  traditions,  the  ideas,  the  beliefs,  the  myths,  the  symbols  of 
that  civilization  in  the  midst  of  which  it  arose,  and  by  the  weaving  in  and  arranging 
of  all  these  vast  elements  it  became  the  complete  and  faithful  expression  of  a  whole 
ancient  period  ;  and  in  fact  the  epopea  is  nothing  but  a  system  which  represents 
poetically  those  ideas  of  a  people  which  the  philosophical  systems  expound  theo- 
retically.'2 

Other  scholars  will  not  concede  even  this  historical  basis  to  the  exploits  celebrated 
in  the  poem.  'Professor  Weber  is  of  opinion  (Hist,  of  Ind.  Lit.  p.  181.)  that  the 
principal  characters  who  figure  in  the  Ramayan  are  not  historical  personages  at  all, 

1  From  Rama  and  ayana,  Rama's  Adventures.    Schlegel  Latinizes  the  Sanskrit 
title  into  Rameis.    In  conformity  with  Indian  custom  I  write  Ramayan  with  the 
dental  or  undotted  V  and  without  the  final  'a,'  as  we  speak  of  the  Iliad  and 

and  not  of  the  Ilias  and  JEneis. 

2  GOREESIO,  Rdmdyan,  Vol.  VI.  Preface, 


ii  INTRODUCTION. 

but  mere  personifications  of  certain  events  and  circumstances.  Sita  (the  furrow)  he 
remarks,  occurs  both  in  the  Rig-veda  [R.  V.  IV,  57.  6]  and  in  the  Grihya  ritual  as 
an  object  of  worship,  and  represents  the  A'ryan  agriculture,  while  he  regards  Rama 
as  the  ploughman  personified.  The  Ramayana  has  only,  he  thinks,  a  historical 
character  in  so  far  as  it  refers  to  an  actual  occurrence,  the  diffusion  of  Aryan  civi- 
lization towards  the  south  of  the  peninsula.'1  To  attempt  to  ascertain  the  date  of 
the  events,  real  or  imaginary  related  in  the  Ramayan  would  be  a  mere  waste  of  tirne> 
I  will  only  mention  that  Sir  William  Jones  places  Rama  in  the  year  2029  B.  0.,  Tod 
in  1100,  and  Bentley  in  950.  Gorresio  would  place  him  about  the  thirteenth  century 
before  the  Christian  era.2 

The  introductory  Cantos  of  the  Ramayan  and  general  tradition  ascribe  the 
authorship  of  the  poem  to  the  inspired  Saint  Valmiki,  one  of  the  holy  company  of 
those  whose  eye  could  pierce  'The  present,  and  the  past,  and  the  to-come,'  who 
attained  the  science  of  secret  things  by 

'  Dreadful  abstinence 

And  conquering  penance  of  the  mutinous  flesh, 
Deep  contemplation,  and  unwearied  study, 
In  years  outstretched  beyond  the  date  of  man.'3 

The  same  authority  makes  V&lmiki  contemporary  with  Rama,  and  assigns  the  com- 
position of  the  poem  to  the  age  which  saw  the  accomplishment  of  the  great  enterprise 
\vhich  forms  its  subject.  '  Critical  inquiry,'  says  Lassen,  '  will  not  allow  the  actual 
authorship  of  Valmiki  and  the  handing  down  of  the  poem  unchanged  from  the 
beginning  to  pass  current;'4  while  Gorresio  maintains  that  'the  popular  tradition 
•which  makes  Valmiki  contemporary  with  Rama  and  relat.es  all  the  particulars  of 
the  first  propagation  of  the  Ramayan  appears  as  probable  and  as  worthy  of  credit 
as  any  other  ancient  fact  historically  related.'  The  internal  evidence  offered  by  the 
poem  is  sufficiently  strong  confirmation  of  its  remote  antiquity,  although  it  is  impos- 
sible to  fix  even  approximately  the  date  of  its  composition.5  Portions  of  this  and 

1  Muir's  Sanskrit  Texts,  Vol.  II.  p.  438. 

*  '  From  Rama  to  Sumitra  the  contemporary,  as  it  appears,  of  Vikramaditya 
(B.  C.  57)  fifty-six  Kings  ruled  in  succession.  By  allowing  on  a  reasonable  comput- 
ation an  average  of  a  little  more  than  twenty  years  to  each  reign  we  arrive  at  the 
thirteenth  century  before  the  Christian  era.  But  to  this  opinion  I  do  not  intend  to 
attribute  more  weight  than  that  of  a  probable  conjecture.' 

GORRESIO,  Rdm,dyant  Vol<  1.  Introduction, 

3  Shelley's  Hellas. 

4  Indisclie  Alterthumskunde,  1.  484. 

5  '  The  Greeks  did  not  acquire  any  intimate  knowledge  of  India.    They  applied 
themselves  chiefly  to  describe  the  regions,  situations,  the  climate,  the  natural  produc- 
tions of  the  Indian  soil,  the  dress,  the  arms,  and  the  customs  of  the  inhabitants.    No 
aid,  then,  can  be  hoped  for  from  the  Greeks  to  discover  the  age  of  the  Ramayan,  as 
nothing  can  be  concluded  against  its  antiquity  from  our   finding   no  mention   of   it 
in  the  works  of  those  writers.    Nor  can  precise  data  be  obtained  even  frcm  Indian 
•writers,  data  impressed  with  a  certain  stamp  of  historical  truth,  sufficient  by  them- 
selves to  establish  the  indubitable  age  of  the  poem.    Indian  minds  were  always  more 
inclined  to  meditate  than  to  narrate,  to  launch  themselves  boldly  into  the  regions  of 
the  ideal  and  the  infinite  rather  than,  to  consign  to  memory  iu  their  reality   events 


INTRODUCTION.  Hi 

other  evidence  I  will  not  lay  before  the  reader,  gathered  chiefly  from  Gorresio's 
Introduction  to  his  magnificent  edition  of  the  Ramayan. 

1  What  I  have  said,'  observes  Gorresio,  'with  regard  to  the  antiquity  of  Rama 
may  be  applied  to  Valmiki  the  author  of  the  Ramayan,  whose  synchronism  with. 
Rama  is  indicated,  as  I  have  pointed  out,  in  the  introduction  to  the  poem,  and 
confirmed  by  two  passages  of  the  poem  itself.  In  such  a  case  the  question  would  be 
ended  and  the  antiquity  of  the  poem  proved,  although  without  determining  its  age 
with  absolute  precision,  a  difficult  question  not  in  the  case  of  the  Ramayan  only  but 
in  the  poems  of  Homer  themselves.  But  because  there  will  be  found  some  people  to 
whom  the  testimony  of  the  introduction  to  the  poem  will  appear  suspicious,  and  the 
authority  of  the  two  passages  (not  found  in  the  Bengal  recension)  doubtful,  I  will 
here  condense  the  indications  and  arguments  which  appear  to  me  to  confirm  the 
antiquity  of  the  Ramayaii.  Passing  over  the  Purana  period  I  come  to  the  era  of 
Vikramaditya  (57  B.  0.)  Here  I  find  a  poem  which  celebrates  in  a  compendious 
form  the  exploits  sung  in  the  Ramayan,  I  mean  the  Raghuvaiisa  of  Kalidasa.1  The 
poet  himself  in  his  introduction  gives  direct  testimony  that  preceding  poets  have 
opened  the  way  for  him  in  this  same  subject.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that 
amongst  these  poets  Valmiki  is  certainly  comprised,  the  copious  and  original  source 
of  all  the  poems  which  celebrate  the  deeds  of  Rama.  As  I  proceed  beyond  the  age 
of  Kalidasa  there  appears  before  me  a  great  epic  monument  to  which  Indian  tradi- 
tion ascribes  a  most  remote  antiquity  so  far  as  to  make  Vyasa  the  compiler  of  the 
Vedas  its  author.  This  monument  is  the  Mahabharata,  I  bow  before  this  colossal 
epic  :  but  without  wishing  to  detract  from  its  antiquity,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  declare 
it  less  ancient  than  the  Ramayan.  And  here  I  first  observe  that  when  we  speak  of 
the  antiquity  of  a  literary  monument,  especially  an  epic  one,  we  must  distinguish 
the  elements  of  which  it  is  composed  from  the  arranging  hand  which  collected  and 
put  them  together.  These  elements  may  be  most  ancient  ;  and  so  are  in  fact  the 
elements  of  the  Mahabharata  :  the  work  of  arranging  and  uniting  them  may  be 
more  or  less  ancient.  And  it  is  precisely  this  work  of  union  and  arrangement  in  the 
Mahabharata  which  I  affirm  to  be  later  than  that  in  the  Ramayan.  If  this  posteri- 
ority were  not  declared  in  the  Mahabharata  itself  which  says  that  the  exploits  of 
Rama  had  already  been  sung  by  Valmiki  inspired  by  Narada,  it  would  be  sufficiently 
proved  by  the  fact  that  there  is  embodied  in  the  Mahabharata  a  summary  of  the 
Ramuyan  of  Valmiki  in  the  same  order  and  very  often  in  the  same  words.  Besides 
the  life  and  worship  of  Krishna  celebrated  in  the  Mahabharata  indicate  an  age  later 

than  the  Ramayan  in  which  there  is  no  mention  of  Krishna  or   Krishnaism 

The  invention  of  the  sloka  attributed  to  Valmiki  in  the  introduction  to  the  Ramayan 

appears  to  confirm  the  antiquity  of  the  poem It  should  be  observed  that  the 

sloku  is  not  only  mentioned  in  the  Rig-veda  but  the  very  metre  is  used.  How  can 
these  apparent  contradictions  be  reconciled  ?  Tradition  says  that  Valmiki  was  the 
inventor  of  the  sloka  and  that  he  first  made  use  of  it  in  the  Ramayan  :  but  in  the 
Ramayan  the  Vedas  are  very  frequently  spoken  of  in  which  the  sloka  is  both  men- 
tioned and  employed.  It  may  be  that  the  hymns  referred  to  are  later  than  the 

Ramayan  ;  but  at  present  we  must  be  content  to  leave  the  difficulty  unsolved 

The  Ramayan  is  mentioned   in  the  Rajatarangini   (Rajatarangini,   Histoire  des 

circumscribed  within  narrow  limits  :  in  one  word,  history  was  checked  by  contempla- 
tion and  poesy.'  GOKRESIO. 

1  A  later  date  is  by  most  scholars  assigned  to  this  poem. 


IV  INTRODUCTION. 

Rois  du  Krchmir,  par  M.  A.  Troyer,   LIB.  I.  £L,   166.).    Damodara,  second   of   that 
name   among  the  kings  of  Kashmir,   was   cursed  by   certain    B rah  mans,    and  the 
malediction  was  to  cease  on  the  day  on  which  he  should   hear   the  entire  Rarnj'iyan. 
recited.    Now  Damodara  the  Second,  in  the  series  of  the   l>ings  of  Kashmir,  precedes 
by  five  kings  Gonarda  the  Third  who   according  to  the   computation  of  M.    Troyer, 
the  sagacious  and  learned  translator  and   commentator  of  the  History  of  Kashmir, 
is  to  be  placed  in  the  year  1182   before  Christ  (Rajatarangini.   Tom.  II.   p.  375), 
Reckoning  backward  from  this  point  to   Damodara   the   Second   through  an  interval 
of  five  reigns  the  average  duration  of  each  of  which   is  about  twenty-four  years,  we 
arrive  at  the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century  before   the  Christian  era.     I  am  far 
from  wishing  to  attribute  any  great   precision  to  these  chronological  computations, 
nor  do  I  pretend  to  determine  exactly  the  age  of  the    Ramtiyan.  but  I  maintain  that 
from  the  passage  of  the  Rajatarangini   cited  the  remote  antiquity  of  the  poem  may 
with  all  confidence  be  inferred.    This  antiquity  is  confirmed   by  the   various  popular 
traditions  diffused  through  the  whole  of  India  upon  the  epopeaof  Valmiki,  upon  the 
exploits  which  are  celebrated  in  it,  upon  the  principal  actors  in  that  great  epic  drama, 
since  traditions  and  popular  legends   gather   round   ancient   monuments  as    ivy  and 
parasitical  plants  cling  only  to  the  trunks  of  aged   oaks.    The  whole  of  India  is  full 
of  such  legends  originated  by  the  celebrity   of  the  epic  of  Valmiki.    The  fame  of 
Rama  and  of  Hanuman   his  mighty  ally,    accompanied   with  popular  legends,  has 
penetrated  into  the  most  remote  parts  of  the  southern  regions  of  India  and  even  into 
Tibet.    A  proof  of  the  antiquity  of  the   Ramayan  is  the  fact  that   many  poets  both 
dramatic   and  epic  have   had   recourse  to   the  great   fountain  of  his  poem  as  the 
Grecian  poets  have  drawn  their  materials  from   the  epics  of  Homer,    The  antiquity 
of  the  Ram  a  van  is  proved  by  the  numerous  various  readings  which  are  found  in  it 
and  which  can  have  arisen  only  from  its  antiquity  and  its  diffusion  by  many  mouths 
through  distant  regions.    And  as  an  epic  poem  is  the    faithful   image  of  the  creeds, 
the  cult,  the  customs  of  the  age  in  which  it  arose,  so  finding  no  mention  of  a  creed, 
a  cult,  a  custom,  or  a  region  in  an  epic  is  a  very  probable  indication  that  it  did  not 
exist  when  the  poem  was  composed.     It  is   worthy  of  being  remarked   that   in  the 
Ramayan  no  traces  are  found  of  that  mystic  devotion  which  absorbs  all  the  faculties 
of  man,  of  that  passionate,  ardent  worship  called  bhakti  which  is  not  of  the  greatest 
antiquity  but  still  must  have  sprung  up   before  our  era,   as  it    is   mentioned  in  the 
Mahabharata.    There  are  indeed  iu  the  Ramayan  examples  of  prodigious  austerities, 
but  these  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  religion  called  bhakti,  and  spring  from  another 
cause,  a  principle  more  profound.    They  appear  to  have  been  originated  by  an  inner 
feeling,  deeply  rooted  and  of  great  antiquity  in  India,    that  is  to  say  that  expiation 
was   to  restore   fallen  human    nature.    Nor  is   there   found   in   the  Ramayan  any 
mention  of  Buddha  or  Buddhism,   although   other   heterodox  creeds  are  spoken  of. 
Nor  is  the    Island  of  Ceylon   against  which   the  expedition  of  Rama  was  directed 
called  Taprobane  or  Tamraparni,  or  Palesimundu  or   Palisimanta,  names  anterior  by 
eome  centuries  to  the  Christian  era.     Nor  is  it  even  called  by  the  name  of  Sinhala 
(Seat  of  Lions)  which   name  is   connected  with  the    occupation   of  the  island  by 
Vijaya  several  centuries  before  our  era.    The  name  which  Ceylon  bears  in  the  Rama- 
yan is  always  the  primitive,  the  most  ancient,   Lanka.    I  could   adduce  many  other 
conjectural    proofs  of  the  antiquity  of  the  Ramayan,  such  for  instance  as  the  nature 
of  the  style,  and   its   qualifying,   as   Homer  does,   with   nich   epithets  as  venerable, 
benign,  divine,  the  night,  the  day,  the  woods,  the  mountains,  and  the  rivers. 


INTRODUCTION.  V 

Colonel  Sykes,  in  his  dissertation  inserted  in  the  Journal  of  the  Royal  Asiatic 
Society  (Vol.  VII.  pp.  248  ff.),  finding  that  the  celebrated  Chine.se  Buddhist  Fa  Hian 
who  visited  India  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  and  beginning  of  the  fifth  century  after 
Christ  makes  no  mention  when  in  Ayodhya,  the  capital  of  Rama's  kingdom,  either 
of  Rarna  or  the  Ramayan,  thinks  it  may  be  doubted  whether  the  poem  existed  at 
that  time.  If  there  is  no  more  reason  than  this  to  doubt  the  antiquity  of  the  Rama- 
yan  we  need  not  be  alarmed.  In  fact  what  did  the  Chinese  Buddhist  see  in  his  long 
journey  through  India,  what  has  he  observed  or  described,  except  Buddhist  monasteries, 
Buddhist  temples,  Buddhist  priests.  Buddhist  traditions,  Buddhist  doctrines,  Buddhist 
heterodoxies  ?  Everything  that  had  no  connection  with  Buddhism  either  of  agree- 
ment or  opposition  was  neglected  by  him  as  out  of  the  line  of  his  object. 

One  apparent  difficulty  seems  to  result  from  the  mention  of  the  Yavanas  which 
is  found  in  the  first  Book  of  the  Ramayan.  The  name  of  Yavanas,  used  in  India  to 
indicate  the  Greeks  after  the  time  of  Alexander,  may  in  this  place  appear  subject  to 
suspicion.  With  regard  to  this  see  the  excellent  remarks  of  von  Schlegei  (Ramayan, 
Vol.  I.  Part  II.  p.  1G8).  The  name  of  Yavanas  may  have  been  anciently  used  by  the 
Indians  to  denote  the  nations  situated  to  the  west  of  India:  more  recently,  that  is 
after  the  time  of  Alexander,  it  was  applied  principally  to  the  Greeks,'1 

It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  every  one  will  admit  the  cogency  of  all  the  argu- 
ments in  favour  of  the  great  antiquity  of  the  Ramayan  adduced  by  the  ingenious 
and  enthusiastic  scholar  from  whom  I  have  quoted;  but  few  who  have  read  the  poem 
will  refuse  to  concur  at  least  in  the  sober  judgment  of  the  writer  of  an  excellent, 
article  on  the  Ramayan  in  Vol.  L.  of  the  Westminster  Review:  *  We  are  ignorant  of 
the  date  of  the  poem,  or  rather  of  the  era  to  which  its  older  parts  belong.  Probably 
Valmiki  and  Homer  were  contemporaries;  perhaps  the  Hindu  was  the  earlier  of  the 
two,  and  sang  his  song  while  that  Ilion  was  a  reality,  which  to  Homer  rose  in  the 
back -ground  of  two  or  three  generations.  Our  limits  forbid  us  to  enter  into  any 
detailed  proof,  nor  indeed  could  any  be  quite  satisfactory;  the  best  arguments  for  its 
age  are  found  in  the  poem  itself,  and  the  habits  and  manners  which  it  describes. 
Thus  the  burning  of  widows  on  the  funeral  piles  of  their  husbands,  which  the  Greeks 
describe  as  an  old  custom  when  Alexander  inxraded  India-,  B.  C.  327.  is  utterly  un- 
known in  the  Ramayana,  and  one  fact  like  this  speaks  volumes.  In  such  poems  as 
the  Ramayana  and  the  Iliad  we  instinctively  feel  that  they  belong  to  the  earlier 
world:  we  enter  them  as  we  enter  a  house  in  Pompeii — the  colours  may  still  seem 
fresh,  and  no  mark  of  decay  remind  us  of  their  age,  but  we  feel  that  they  belong  not 
to  us  or  ours,  and  a  gulf  of  ages  lies  between  us  and  our  objects.' 

The  Ramayan  is  divided  into  seven  Books,  but  the  action  of  the  poem  ends  with 
the  sixth,  and  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  seventh  Book  is  a  later 
addition.  This  last  Book  or  Uttara  Kaiida,  'contains  various  stories,  legends,  and 
traditions,  which  still  have  some  connection  of  affinity  with  the  principal  poem.  The 

mythical  origin  of  the  Rakshasas  is  there  related with  the  banishment  of  Sita. 

and  her  giving  birth  in  the  hermitage  of  Valmiki  to  twin  sons,  Kusa  and  Lava,  who 
were  the  first  rhapsodists  or  *  aoidoi '  of  the  Ramayan,  and  other  traditions  and 
legends  only  distantly  connected  with  the  Ramayan  properly  so  called.'54  The  whole 
contains  about  24.000  verses,  chiefly  slokes  or  heroic  distichs  of  thirty-two  syllables 
each,  with  verses  of  a  different  metre  occasionally  introduced  or  interpolated,  especi- 
ally at  the  end  of  a  canto. 

1  GOBRESIO,  Rdmdyan,  Vol.  I,  Introduction,  2  GOBKESIO. 


T!  INTRODUCTION. 

'The  poem  has  evidently  undergone  considerable  alteration  since  the  time  of  its 
first  composition,  but  still  underneath  all  the  subsequent  additions  the  original 
elements  are  preserved,  and  careful  criticism  might  perhaps  separate  the  interpolations 
and  present  the  more  genuine  parts  as  a  whole  by  themselves,  The  task  however, 
would  be  difficult,  and  perhaps  as  impracticable  as  it  has  proved  in  the  Homeric 
poems.  For  many  ages  it  is  certain  that  the  work  existed  only  by  oral  tradition,  and 
each  rhapsodist  added  or  altered  at  his  pleasure,  or  to  suit  the  taste  or  vanity  of  the 
princely  families  whom  he  served.  The  measure  of  the  poem,  moreover,  is  of  a 
somewhat  fatal  facility,  and  many  rhapsodists  would  naturally  be  ambitious  of 
mingling  their  own  songs  with  those  of  their  bards,  and  the  habit  of  repetition  would 
at  once  supply  them  with  a  vocabulary  of  epic  phrases  to  suit  their  purpose.  Whole 
chapters  thus  betray  their  origin  by  their  barrenness  of  thought  and  laborious  mimi- 
cry of  the  epic  spirit,  which  in  the  case  of  the  old  poets  had  spontaneously  burst  out 
of  the  heart's  fulness  like  the  free  song  of  a  child.  But  when  the  Indian  Pisistratua 
arose  who  collected  these  separate  songs  and  reduced  them  to  their  present  shape,  the 
genuine  and  spurious  were  alike  included,  and  no  Hindu  critic  ever  appears  to  have 
attempted  to  discriminate  between  them.  With  regard  to  the  Ramayana  it  appears 
to  have  undergone  two  distinct  revisions,  one  in  Benares  and  the  other  in  Bengal, 
and  as  the  two  were  accomplished  without  any  reference  or  relation  to  each  other, 
they  naturally  present  many  varieties  in  their  texts.  The  same  thoughts  and  events 
are  generally  preserved  in  both,  but  the  words  and  order  of  the  verses  continually 
differ,  as  would  naturally  be  the  case  when  the  revisions  were  made  from  the  oral 
traditions  of  two  different  schools  of  rhapsodists  from  each  of  which  the  poem  had 
been  undergoing  a  long  series  of  alterations  such  as  those  we  have  suggested  above.'1 

Notwithstanding  Gorresio's  able  and  enthusiastic  advocacy  of  what  he  considers 
the  superior  claims  of  the  Bengal  recension  of  the  Ramayan,  it  is  generally  allowed 
by  European  scholars  that  the  Benares  or  North-West  recension  is  the  more  genuine. 
Of  the  former  there  is  a  magnificent  edition  by  Gorresio,  published  at  the  expense 
of  Charles  Albert,  late  King  of  Sardinia.  The  text  is  printed  in  a  style  that  cannot 
be  surpassed  in  an  country,  and  an  Italian  prose  translation  of  the  whole  accompanies 
it  'which  may  be  equalled  but  not  surpassed  in  any  other  of  the  languages  of 
Europe.  In  his  translation  he  has  carefully  preserved  a  Dantesque  idiom  and  form 
of  expression,  free  from  all  local  patois  ;  his  rendering  is  most  faithful,  and  his 
language  elegent  and  spirited.'2*  The  Benares  recension  has  been  less  fortunate.  In  the 
years  1805—1810  Carey  and  Marshman,  the  venerable  Missionaries  of  Serampore, 
published  the  text  and  English  translation  of  two  Books  and  a  half  or  about  one 
third  of  the  entire  poem,3  but  these  volumes  have  long  been  out  of  print  and  unpro- 
curable, and  they  '  are  very  inferior  as  productions  of  literary  art,  though  no  blame 

1  Westminster  Review,  Vol,  L. 

55  Calcutta  Review,  Vol.  XXIII.    The  Rd  may  ana. 

3  '  The  gentlemen  who  compose  the  Committee  (of  the  Asiatic  Society  of  Bengal) 
have  made  choice  of  the  Ramayan  of  Valmiki  to  be  the  first  in  the  series  of  trans- 
lations from  the  Sanskrit.  The  reverence  in  which  it  is  held,  the  extent  of  country 
through  which  it  is  circulated,  and  the  interesting  view  which  it  exhibits  of  the 
religion,  the  doctrines,  the  mythology,  the  current  ideas,  and  the  manners  and 
customs  of  the  Hiudus,  combine  to  justify  their  election,'  Advertisement  to  Carey 
and  Marshman 's  edition  of  the  Rdmdyan. 


INTRODUCTION.  Vll 

attaches  to  the  excellent  men  who  publshed  their  work  in  the  very  dawn  of  oriental 
studies,'1  In  the  year  1846  the  great  William  von  Schlegel  published  the  text  of 
the  nrst  two  Books  with  a  Latin  translation  of  the  first  and  part  of  the  second,  This 
edition  is  to  some  extent  an  eclectic  one  ;  it  is  founded  on  the  North-West  recension 
but  sometimes  admits  passages  from  the  Bengal  recension  when  they  are  recom- 
mended by  any  special  excellence.  This  work,  as  Gorresio  justly  says,  '  bears  the 
impress  of  that  critical  acumen,  of  that  profound  judgment,  of  that  artistic  sense, 
for  which  he  is  so  renowned.'  An  admirable  edition  of  the  North- West  recension 
with  a  commentary,  has  lately  been  lithographed  at  Bombay,  and  a  rather  inferior 
printed  edition  has  been  published  in  Calcutta.  The  late  M.  Hippolyte  Fauche,  the 
most  intrepid  and  indefatigable  of  translators  from  the  Sanskrit,  has  given  to  the 
world  a  French  version  of  Gorresios'  edition.2  Thus  the  Bengal  recension  has  been 
translated  into  Italian  and  French;  but  there  is  no  English  version  of  either  recension, 
and  only  a  small  portion  of  the  North -West  recension  has  been  translated  into  any 
European  tongue.  This  fact  alone  will,  I  trust,  be  regarded  as  a  sufficient  reason  or 
excuse  for  the  present  attempt  to  reproduce  the  Ramayan  in  an  English  dress.  The 
poem  can  hardly  be  denied  a  high  place  among  the  great  epics  of  the  world,  and  it 
is  surely  desirable  that  Englishmen— especially  those  who  are  more  immediately 
connected  with  India— should  at  least  be  enabled,  if  they  choose,  to  become  acquainted 
with  it.3 

My  first  object  has  been  to  reproduce  the  original  poem  as  faithfully  as  circum- 
stances permit  me  to  do.  For  this  purpose  I  have  preferred  verse  to  prose.  The 
translations  of  the  Iliad  by  Chapman  and  Worsley--uay,  even  by  translators  of  far 
inferior  poetical  powers— are,  I  think,  much  more  Homeric  than  any  literal  prose 

1  Gorresio  says:  'With  regard  to  the  merits  of  this  work  I  will  add  nothing  to 
the  severe  but  just  judgment  passed  upon  it  by  the  illustrious  William  von  Schlegel 
who  found  it  a  work  without   skill  or  critical  discernment,  abounding  in  faults  and 

worthless  in  every  part.' 

2  One  Canto,  in  the  four  versions,  will  be  found  in  Appendix  B. 

3  The  Rainayana  and  Maha-bharata.  unlike  the  Iliad  and  the  Odysey,  are  closely 
connected  with  the  present  religious  faith  of  millions;  and  these  millions,  be  it  remem- 
bered, acknowledge  British  sway,  and  have  a  right  to  expect  the  British  public  to 
take  an  interest  in  works  which  are  the  time-honoured  repository  of  their  legendary 
history  and  mythology,  of  their  ancient  customs  and  observances,  as  well  as  of  their 
most  cherished  gems  of  poetry.    It  needs  no  argument  to  show  that  some  knowledge 
of  the  two  great   Indian   Epics  ought  to  be  required  of  all  who  hold  office  in  India, 
whether  in  the  Civil  Service,  or  in   any  other  capacity.     Nor   is  it   right,  or  even 
possible,   for  Englishmen  generally  to  remain   any   longer    wholly  ignorant  of  the 
nature  and  contents  of  these  poems.     British  India  is  now  brought  so  close  to  us  by 
steam  and  electricity,  and  the  present  condition  of  the  Hiadii  community,  social, 
political,  and  religious,  forces  itself  so  peremptorily  on  our  attention,  that  the  duty 
of  studying  the  past  history  of  our  Eastern  empire,  so  far  as  it  can  be  collected  from 
ancient  Sanskrit  literature,  can  no  longer  be  evaded  by  educated  men.    Hitherto  the 
Indian  Epics,  which,  in  the  absence  of  all  real  history,  are  the  only  guides  to  the  early 
condition  of  our  Hindu  fellow-subjects,  have  been  sealed  books  to  the   majority 
of  Englishmen.' 

Indian,  Epic  Poetry.    By  MONI  EK  WILLIAMS,  M.  A.,  Preface,  111,  IV. 


Viii  INTRODUCTION. 

rendering  can  possibly  be.  In  the  latter  we  may  find  the  '  disjecti  membra  poetae,' 
but  all  the  form  and  the  life  are  gone,  for  '  the  interpenetration  of  matter  and 
manner  constitute  the  very  soul  of  poetry.'  I  have  but  seldom  allowed  myself  to 
amplify  or  to  condense,  or  omit  apparently  needless  repetitions,  but  have  attempted 
rather  to  give  the  poet  as  he  is  than  to  represent  him  as  European  taste  might  prefer 
him  to  be.  Comparisons,  therefore,  which  to  English  readers  will  appear  vulgar  or 
rediculous  have  been  left  unaltered,  and  long  passages  of  unutterable  tediousness 
re-appear  in  my  version  with,  probably,  their  tediousness  enhanced.  I  may  observe, 
with  all  respect  for  Valmiki,  that  the  Ramayan,  even  in  the  sonorous  and  dignified 
Sanskrit,  will  hardly  bear  reading  through,  and  I  am  sure  that  the  translation 
will  not.  Valmiki's  work  is  not  much  read  even  in  India,  although  the  Hindi 
refaccimento  by  the  poet  Tulsidas  is  more  popular  and  more  honoured  by  the  people 
of  the  North-Western  Provinces  that  the  Bible  is  by  the  corresponding  classes  in 
England.  The  poem,  it  should  be  remembered,  was  in  ancient  times  recited  and 
not  read;  the  audience  that  gathered  round  the  rhapsodist  might  be  continually 
changing,  and  each  hearer  would  probably  listen  to  a  few  consecutive  cantos  only. 
It  is  true  that  one  unfortunate  king  mentioned  in  the  Rajataranginl  was  condemned 
to  remain  under  the  malediction  of  the  Brahmans  until  he  should  have  heard  the 
whole  Ramayan  recited  at  one  sitting.1  But  it  may  be  doubted  which  alternative 
he  preferred  ;  and  this  is  quite  an  exceptional  case. 

The  metre  I  have  adopted  has  been  chosen  after  long  consideration  and  many 
experiments.  It  is  not,  I  know,  the  exact  equivalent  of  Valmiki's  sloka  or  heroic 
distich,  with  which  it  cannot  compare  in  gravity  or  grandeur.  I  would  generally 
prefer  other  metres  for  free  translations  of  short  extracts  or  scenes  from  the  poem, 
but  for  a  translation  of  the  entire  work  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  the  octosyllabic 
metre  fairly  represents  the  original,  and  at  the  same  time  1  find  that  it  suits  me  best. 
The  sloka,  as  I  have  already  said,  consists  of  two  lines  of  sixteen  syllables  or,  rather, 
four  lines  of  eight  syllables  each,  only  four  of  which  are  fixed  in  quantity,  the  others 
being  optionally  long  or  short.2  It  corresponds  then  roughly  to  four  lines  of  the 

1  This  reminds  one  of  Macaulay's  story  of  the  Italian  criminal  'who  was  suffered 
to  choose  between  Guicciardini  and  the  gallej's.  fle  chose  the  History.  But  the  war 
of  Pisa  was  too  much  for  him.  He  changed  his  mind,  and  went  to  the  oar.' 

a  *  This  verse  is  a  stanza  or  $loka,  which,  with  some  exceptions,  consists  of  two 
lines  or  hemistichs  :  each  of  these  is  again  subdivided  into  two  parts:  so  that  the 
entire  stanza  is  for  the  most  part  a  tetrastich,  composed  of  four  Padas  or  Charanas, 
literally  '  feet,'  or,  in  our  understanding  of  the  term,  lines  or  semi  hemistichs  ;  the 
intervals  between  the  first  and  second,  and  third  and  fourth  of  which  are  not  always 
go  distinctly  marked,  as  that  between  the  second  and  third 

This  is  by  far  the  most  frequent  and  useful  form  of  Sanskrit  verse.  It  is  that  in 
which  the  great  body  of  metrical  composition,  whether  narrative  or  didactic,  exists, 
All  works  of  considerable  extent  are  written  in  it,  relieved  by  the  occasional  intro- 
duction of  other  metres.  It  is  the  prevailing  form  of  metre  in  the  laws  of  Manu,  the 
Mahabharata,  the  Ramayana,  and  the  Puranas 

Another  rule  given  for  the  formation  of  the  Anushtup  verse  is,  that  the  fifth 
syllable  of  each  line  shall  be  short,  the  sixth  long  and  the  seventh  alternately  long 
and  short ;  whilst  the  first  four  syllables  and  the  eighth  are  arbitrary.  This  will  be 


INTRODUCTION.  lx 

octosyllabic  metre  which  will  generally  be  found  to  reproduce  it  without,  as  a  rule, 
either  condensation  or  amplification.  Blank  verse,  even  if  the  translator  could  write 
it,  would  never  represent  the  gloka,  a  verse  generally  commensurate  with  the  sentence  ; 
and  a  Sanskrit  distich  must  either  be  condensed  into  one  heroic  couplet  or  expanded 
to  rill  two. 

For  the  first  two  Rooks  I  translate  from  Schlegel's  edition,  and  from  the  Bombay 
edition  for  the  remaining  portion  of  the  poem. 

The  notes,  necessarily  brief  and  simple.  I  owe  chiefly  to  Schlegel  and  Gorresio  :  I 
have  also  borrowed  freely  from  Wilson,  Lassen,  Muir,  Max  Miiller,  Goldstucker,  and 
Professor  Monier  Williams,  English  readers  will,  I  trust,  remember  that  1  write 
partly  for  Indians,  and  Indians  that  the  notes  which  they  may  think  superfluous  are 
necessary  to  enable  Europeans  to  understand  the  poem. 

There  are  many  archaisms  in  the  original,  and  I  have  not  entirely  excluded  them 
from  my  translation.  My  verses.  1  know,  are  frequently  rough,  prosaic,  and  dull,  but 
I  believe  that  any  elaborate  polish  or  the  studied  use  of  more  modern  poetical 
phraseology  would  only  impair  still  further  their  likeness  to  the  simple  distichs  of 
Valmiki. 

Judged  by  a  European  standard  there  is  but  little  true  poetry  in  the  first  Book 
of  the  Ramayan,  and  much  of  the  aroma  of  that  little  has  probably  evaporated  in 
the  process  of  translation.  Still,  though  fully  aware  of  its  many  shortcomings,  and 
only  trusting  that  longer  study,  greater  practice,  and  the  lessons  of  intelligent 
criticism  may  make  each  succeeding  volume  less  imperfect.  I  submit  this  first  volume 
to  the  public  with  some  confidence,  as  I  am  fully  persuaded  that  the  work  when 
completed  will  supply  a  want  which  has  long  been  felt  in  India  if  not  in  England. 

I  beg  to  offer  my  sincere  thanks  to  the  Governments  of  Bengal,  the  Punjab, 
Bombay,  Mysore,  the  Central  Provinces,  and  Oudh,  for  the  liberal  aid  which,  at  the 
recommendation  of  the  several  Directors  of  Public  Instruction,  they  have  given  to 
my  undertaking  ;  and  more  especially  am  1  bound  to  render  my  best  thanks  to  the 
very  distinguished  oriental  scholar  at  the  head  of  the  Government  of  the  North- 
Western  Provinces— those  Provinces  in  which  Valmiki  composed  his  immortal  poem, 
and  in  which  this  first  metrical  translation  of  it  has  been  begun  and  will,  I  hope, 
be  completed. 

found  to  be  usually  the  form  adopted,  with  occasional  exceptions.  The  following, 
are  examples:— 

asididam  tamobhutamaprajnatamalakshanam 

apratarkyamavijneyam  prasuptamivasarvvatah 

1  This  universe  had  become  darkness,  undiscerned,  uncharacterised,  indescribable, 
incomprehensible,  as  if  everywhere  in  a  deep  sleep.'  Manu. 

.  •  r   .  j .      ~.\      -        ~  || .  |  f .     ~  -  |  -  .  || 

ma  nishada  pratishtham  twamagarnah  sasvati  samah, 

yat  kraunchamithunadekarnabadhih  kamamohitam 

'  Never,  barbarian,  mayest  thou  acquire  fame  for  endless  years,  since  thou  hast 
slain  one  of  these  birds,  heedless  through  passion.'  Ramayana.  Tradition  affirms  of 
this  that  it  is  the  first  &loka  or  auushtup  verse  ever  composed.' 

WILSON'S  Sanskrit  Grammar,  p.  436. 


THE  RlMA'YAN. 


INVOCATION.1 


Praise    to    Valmiki,2    bird  of  charming 

song,3 

Who  mounts  on  Poesy's  sublimest  spray, 
And  sweetly  sings  with  accent  clear  and 

strong 
Rama,  aye  Rama,  in  his  deathless  lay. 

Where  breathes  the  man  can  listen  to  the 

strain 
That   flows   in   music  from   Valmiki's 

tongue, 

Nor  feel  his  feet  the  path  of  bliss  attain 
When  Kama's  glory  by  the  saint  is  sung  ? 


1  TheMSS.vary  very  considerably  in  these 
stanzas  of  invocation  :    many  lines  are 
generally  prefixed  in  which  not  only  the 
poet,  but  those  who  play  the  chief  parts  in 
the   poem   are  panegyrized.      It   is  self- 
apparent  that  they  are  not  by  the  author 
of  the  Ramayan  himself. 

2  '  Valmiki  was  the  son  of  Varuna,  the 
regent  of  the  waters,  one  of  whose  names 
is  Prachetas.     According  to  the  Adhydtmd 
Rdnidyana,  the  sage,  although  a  Brahman 
by  birth,  associated  with  foresters  and 
robbers.    Attacking  on  one  occasion  the 
seven  Rishis,  they  expostulated  with  him 
successfully,  and  taught  him  the  mantra 
of  Rama  reversed,  or  Mara,  Mara,  in  the 
inaudible  repetition  of  which  he  remained 
immovable  for  thousands  of  years,  so  that 
when  the  sages  returned  to  the  same  spot 
they  found  him  still  there,  converted  into 
a  valmik  or  ant-hill,  by  the  nests  of  the 
termites,  whence  his  name  of  Valmiki.' 

WILSON.  Specimens  of  the  Hindu 

Theatre,  Vol.  I.  p.  313. 
^ '  Valmiki  is  said  to  have  lived  a  solitary 
life  in  the  woods  :  he  is  called  both  a  muni 
and  a  rishi.  The  former  word  properly 
signifies  an  anchorite  or  hermit  ;  the  latter 
has  reference  chiefly  to  wisdom.  The  two 
words  are  frequently  used  promiscuously, 
and  may  both  be  rendered  by  the  Latin 
rates  in  its  earliest  meaning  of  seer  : 
Valmiki  was  both  poet  and  seer,  as  he  is 
said  to  have  sung  the  exploits  of  Rama  by 
the  aid  of  divining  insight  rather  than  of 
knowledge  naturally  acquired.'  SCHLEGEL. 
3  Literally,  Kokila,  the  KoTl,  or  Indian 
Cuckoo.  Schlegel  translates  'lusciuium,' 


The  stream  Ramayan  leaves  its  sacred  fount 
The  whole  wide  world  from  sin  and  stain 
to  free.1 

The  Prince  of  Hermits  is  the  parent  mount, 
The  lordly  Hama  is  the  darling  sea. 

Glory  to  him  whose  fame  is  ever  bright  ! 

Glory  to  him,  Prachetas1 2  holy  son  ! 
Whose  pure  lips  quaff  with  ever  new  delight 

The  nectar-sea  of  deeds  by   Rama  done. 

Hail,  arch-ascetic,  pious,  good,  and  kind  ! 

Hail,  Saint  Valmiki,  lord  of  every  lore  1 

Hail,  holy  Hermit,  calm  and  pure  of  mind! 

Hail,  First  of  Bards,  Valmiki,  hail  once 

more  ! 


BOOK  I.3 
CANTO  I. 


NARAD.* 


To  sainted  Narad,  prince  of  those 
Whose  lore  in  words  of  wisdom  flosvs, 
Whose  constant  care  and  chief  delight 
Were  Scripture  and  ascetic  rite, 
The  good  Valmiki,  first  and  best 

1  Comparison  with  the  Ganges  is  implied, 
that  river  being  called  the  purifier  of  the 
world. 

2  'This  name  may  have  been  given  to  the 
father  of   Valmiki   allegorically.     If    we 
look  at  the  derivation  of   the  word  (pra, 
before,  and  chetas,  mind)   it  is  as  if  the 
poet  were  called  the  son  of  Prometheus,  the 
Forethinker.'     SCHLEQEL. 

3  Called  in  Sanskrit  also  Bdla-Kdnda, 
and  in   Hindi  Bdl-Kdnd,  i.  e.  the    Book 
describing  Rama's  childhood,  bdla  mean- 
ing a  boy  up  to  his  sixteenth  year. 

4  A  divine  saint,  son  of    Brahma.     He 
is  the  eloquent  messenger  of  the  Gods,  a 
musician  of  exquisite  skill,  and  the  in- 
ventor of  the  vind  or  Indian   lute.     He 
bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  Hermes  or 
Mercury. 

3  This  mystic  syllable,  said  to  typify 
the  supreme  Deity,  the  Gods  collectively, 
the  Vedas,  the  three  spheres  of  the  world, 
the  three  holy  fires,  the  three  steps  of 
Vishnu  etc.,  prefaces  the  prayers  and  most 
venerated  writings  of  the  Hindus. 


TIIE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Hook  1. 


Of  hcnr.it  sa'"nta,  these  words  addressed:1 
*  In  a:i  tlii.s  -.vor'id,  1  pray  tiiee,  wiio 
Js  virtuous,  heroic,  true  ? 
Firm  in  his  vows,  of  grateful  mind, 
To  every  creature  good  and  kind  ? 
Bounteous,  and  holy,  just,  and  wise, 
Alone  most  fair  to  all  men's  eyes? 
Devoid  of  envy,  firm,  and  sage, 
Whose  tranquil  soul  ne'er  yields  to  rage? 
"Whom,  when  his  warrior  wrath  is  high, 
Do  Gods  embattled  fear  and  fly  ? 
Whose  noble  might  and  gentle  skill 
The  triple  world  can  guard  from  ill  T 
Who  is  the  best  of  princes,  he 
Who  loves  his  people's  good  to  see  ? 
The  store  of  bliss,  the  living  mine 
Where  brightest  joys  and  virtues  shine? 
Queen  Fortune's"  best  and  dearest  friend, 
Whose  steps  her  choicest  gifts  attend  ? 
Who  may  with  Sun  and  Moon  compare, 
With  Indra,3  Vishnu,*  Fire,  and  Air? 
Grant,  Saint  divine',5  the  boon  I  ask, 
For  thee,  I  ween,  an  easy  task, 
To  whom  the  power  is  given  to  know 
If  such  a  man  breathe  here  below.' 


1  This    colloquy    is    supposed  to  have 
taken   place   about    sixteen    years    after 
Kama's  return  from  his  wanderings  and 
occupation  of  his  ancestral  throne. 

2  Called    also    £ri  and    Lakshmi,    the 
consort  of  Vishnu,  the  Queen  of  Beauty 
as  well  as  the  Dea  Fortuna.    Her  birth 
'from  the  full-flushed  wave'  is  described 
in  Canto  XLV  of  this  Book. 

3  One  of  the  most  prominent  objects  of 
worship  in  the  Rig-veda,  Indra  was  super- 
seded in  later  times  by  the  more  popular 
deities  Vishnu  and  £iva.     He  is  the  God 
of  the  firmament,  and   answers  in  many 
respects  to  the  Jupiter   Pluvius  of   the 
Romans.    See  Additional  Notes. 

4  The  second  God  of  the  Trimurti  or 
Indian  Trinity.    Derived  from  the  root 
vis  to  penetrate,  the  meaning  of  the  name 
appears  to  be  he  who  penetrates  or  pervades 
all  things.  An  embodiment  of  the  preserv- 
ing power  of  nature,  he  is  worshipped  as 
a  Saviour  who  has  nine  times  been  in- 
carnate for  the  good  of  the  world  and 
will  descend  on    earth    once    more.    See 
Additional   Notes    and    Muir's    Sanskrit 
Texts  passim. 

5  In   Sanskrit  devarshi.    Rishi    is    the 
general  appellation  of  sages,  and  another 
word  is  frequently  prefixed  to  distinguish 
the  degrees.     A  Brahmarshi  is  a  theolo- 
gian or  Brahmanical  sage  ;  a  Rajarshi  is  a 
royal  sage  or  sainted  king  ;  a  Devarshi  is 
a  divine  or  deified  sage  or  saint. 


Then  Narad,  clear  before  wh  ose  eye 
The  present,  past,  and  future  lie,1 
Made  ready  answer  :  *  Hen  nit,  where 
Are  graces  found  BO  high  and  rare  ? 
Vet  listen,  and  my  tongue  shall  tell 
In  whom  alone  these  virtues  dwell. 
From  old  Ikshvaku's*  line  he  came, 
Known  to  the  world  by  Kama's  name: 
With  soul  subdued,  a  chief  of  might, 
In  Scripture  versed,  in  glory  bright. 
His  steps  in  virtue's  paths  are  bent, 
Obedient,  pure,  and  eloquent. 
In  each  emprise  he  wins  success, 
And  dying  foes  his  power  confess. 
Tall  and  broad-shouldered,  strong  of  limb, 
Fortune  has  set  her  mark  on  him. 
Graced  with  a  conch  -shell's  triple  line, 
His  throat  displays  the  auspicious  sign.3 

1  TrlMlajha.  Literally  knower  of  the 
three  times.  Both  Schlegel  and  Gorresio 
quote  Homer's. 


r?  ra  r 


ra  T 


Trpo  r     ovra. 

*  That  sacred  seer,  whose  comprehensive  view 

The  past,  the  present,  and  the  future  knew. 

The  Bombay   edition  reads  trilokajna, 

who  knows  the  three  worlds  (earth,  air  and 

heaven.)    *  It  is  by  tapas  (austere  fervour) 

that  rishis  of  subdued  souls,  subsisting  on 

roots,  fruits  and  air,  obtain  a  vision  of  the 

three  worlds  with  all  things  moving  and 

stationary.'    MANU,  XI.  236. 

2  Son  of  Manu,  the  first  king  of  Kosala 
and  founder  of  the  solar  dynasty  or  family 
of  the  Children  of  the  Sun,  the  God   of 
that  luminary  being  the  father  of  Manu. 

3  The  Indians  paid  great  attention  to 
the  art  of  physiognomy  and  believed  that 
character  and  fortune  could  be  foretold 
not  from  the  face  only  but  from  marks 
upon   the  neck  and   hands.     Three   lines 
under  the  chin  like  those  at  the  mouth  of 
a  conch   (Sankha)    were   regarded    as  a 
peculiarly  auspicious  sign  indicating,  as 
did  also  the  mark  of  Vishnu's  discus  on 
the  hand,  one  born  to  be  a  chakravartin  or 
universal  emperor.     In  the  palmistry   of 
Europe  the  line  of  fortune,  as  well  as  the 
line  of  life,  is  in  the  hand.    Cardan  says 
that  marks  on  the  nails  and  teeth   also 
show    what  is  to  happen  to   us:    'Sunt 
etiam  in  nobis  vestigia  quaedam  futurorum 
eventuum  in  unguibus  atque  etiam  in  den- 
tibus.'    Though  the  palmy  days  of  Indian 
chiromancy   have   passed    away,  the  art 
is  still  to  some  extent  studied  and  be- 
lieved in, 


Canto 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


High  destiny  is  clear  impressed 

On  massive  jaw  and  ample  chest, 

His  mighty  shafts  he  truly  aims, 

And  foymen  in  the  battle  tames. 

Deep  in  the  muscle,  scarcely  shown, 

Embedded  lies  his  collar-bone. 

His  lordly  steps  are  linn  and  free, 

His  strong  arms  reach  below  his  knee  :l 

All  fairest  graces  join  to  deck 

His  head,  his  brow,  his  stately  neck, 

And  limbs  in  fair  proportion  set : 

The  manliest  form  e'er  fashioned  yet. 

Graced  with  each  high  imperial  mark, 

His  skin  is  soft  and  lustrous  dark. 

Large  are  his  eyes  that  sweetly  shine 

With  majesty  almost  divine. 

His  plighted  word  he  ne'er  forgets  ; 

On  erring  sense  a  watch  he  sets. 

By  nature  wise,  his  teacher's  skill 

Has  trained  him  to  subdue  his  will. 

Good,  resolute  and  pure,  and  strong, 

He  guards  mankind  from  scathe  and  wrong, 

And  lends  his  aid,  and  ne'er  in  vain, 

The  cause  of  justice  to  maintain. 

Well  has  he  studied  o'er  and  o'er 

The  Vedas*  and  their  kindred  lore. 


1  Long  arms  were  regarded  as  a  sign  of 
heroic  strength. 

2  '  Veda   means    originally  knowing  or 
knowledge,  and  this  name  is  given  by  the 
Brahman*  not  to   one  work,  but  to   the 
whole  body  of  their  most  ancient  sacred 
literature.     Veda  is  the  same  word  which 
appears  in  the  Greek  olSa,  I  know,  and 
in  the  English  wise,  wisdom,  to  wit.     The 
name  of  Veda  is  commonly  given  to  four 
collections  of  hymns,   which   are   respec- 
tively known  by  the  names  of  Rig-veda, 
Yajiir-veda,    Sama-veda,    and    Atharva- 
veda.' 

4  As  the  language  of  the  Veda,  the  Sans- 
krit, is  the  most  ancient  type  of  the  Eng- 
lish of  the  present  day,  (Sanskrit  and 
English  are  but  varieties  of  one  and  the 
same  language,)  so  its  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings contain  in  reality  the  first  roots  and 
germs  of  that  intellectual  growth  which 
by  an  unbroken  chain  connects  our  own 
generation  with  the  ancestors  of  the  Aryan 
race, — with  those  very  people  who  at  the 
rising  and  setting  of  the  sun  listened  with 
trembling  hearts  to  the  songs  of  the  Veda, 
that  told  them  of  bright  powers  above,  and 
of  a  life  to  come  after  the  sun  of  their  own 
lives  had  set  in  the  clouds  of  the  evening. 
These  men  were  the  true  ancestors  of  our 
race,  and  the  Veda  is  the  oldest  book  we 
have  in  which  to  study  the  tirst  beginning; 
of  our  language,  and  of  all  that  is  em- 
bodied in  language,  We  are  by  nature 


Well  skilled  is  he  the  bow  to  draw,1 
Well  trained  in  arts  and  versed  in  law ; 
High-souled  and  meet  for  happy  fate, 
Most  tender  and  compassionate  ; 
The  noblest  of  all  lordly  givers, 
Whom  good  men  follow,  as  the  rivers 
Follow  the  King  of  Floods,  the  sea  : 
So  liberal,  so  just  is  he. 
The  joy  of  Queen  Kausalya's2  heart, 
In  every  virtue  he  has  part : 
Firm  as  Himalaya's3  snowy  steep, 
Dnfathomed  like  the  mighty  deep  ; 
The  peer  of  Vishnu's  power  and  might, 
And  lovely  as  the  Lord  of  Night;4 
Patient  as  Earth,  but,  roused  to  ire, 
Fierce  as  the  world -destroying  fire  ; 
In  bounty  like  the  Lord  of  Gold,5 
And  Justice'  self  in  human  mould. 

With  him,  his  best  and  eldest  son, 
By  all  his  princely  virtues  won 
King  Daaaratha6  willed.to  share 
His  kingdom  as  the  Ketrent  Heir. 
But  when  Kaikeyi,  youngest  queen, 
With  eyes  of  envious  hate  had  seen 
ThM  solemn  pomp  and  regal  state 
Prepared  the  prince  to  consecrate, 
She  bade  the  hapless  king  bestow 
Two  gifts  he  promised  long  ago, 
That  Kama  to  the  woods  should  flee, 
And  that  her  child  the  heir  should  be. 

By  chains  of  duty  firmly  tied, 
The  wretched  king  perforce  complied. 

Aryan,  Indo-European,  not  Semitic  :  our 

spiritual  kith  and  kin  are  to  be  found  in 

India,  Persia,  Greece,  Italy,  Germany;  not 

in  Mesopotamia,  Egypt,  or  Palestine.' 

Chips  from  a  German  Workshop. 

Vol.  I.  pp.  8,  4. 

1  As    with    the    ancient    Persians    and 
Scythians,   Indian  princes  were  carefully 
instructed   in   archery    which   stands   for 
military    science   in    general,    of    which, 
among  Hindu  heroes,  it  was  the  most  im- 
portant branch, 

2  Chief  of  the  three  queensof  Dasaratha 
and  mother  of  Rama. 

3  From   him  a  snow,    (Greek   Y£t/J-CUV 
Latin  hiems)  and  dlaya  abode;  the  Man- 
sion of  JSnow. 

4  The  moon  (Soma.lndu,  Chandra  eta.) 
is  masculine  with  the  Indians  as  with  the 
Germans. 

5  Kuvera,  the  Indian  Plutus,  or  God  of 
Wealth. 

6  The  events  here  briefly  mentioned  will 
be  related  fully  in  the  course  of  the  poem. 
The  first  four  cantos  are  introductory,  and 
are  evidently  the  work  of  a  later  hand 
thaii  Valiniki's. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I 


Kama,  to  please  Kaikefi  went 

Obedient  forth  to  banishment. 

Then  Lakshman's  truth  was  nobly  shown, 

Then  were  his  love  and  courage  known, 

When  for  his  brother's  sake  he  dared 

All  perils,  and  his  exile  shared. 

And  Sita,  Kama's  darling  wife, 

Loved  even  as  he  loved  his  life, 

Whom  happy  marks  combined  to  bless, 

A  miracle  of  loveliness, 

Of  Janak's  royal  lineage  sprung, 

Most  excellent  of  women,  clung 

To  her  dear  lord,  like  Rohini 

Kejoicing  with  the  Moon  to  be.1 

The  King  and  people,  sad  of  mood, 

The  hero's  car  awhile  pursued. 

But  when  Prince  Rama  lighted  down 

At  Sringavera'a  pleasant  town, 

Where  Ganga's  holy  waters  flow, 

He  bade  his  driver  turn  and  go. 

Guha,  Nishadas'  king,  he  met, 

And  on  the  farther  bank  was  set. 

Then  on  from  wood  to  wood  they  strayed, 

O'er  many  a  stream,through  constant  shade, 

As  Bharadvtija  bade  them,   till 

They  came  to  Chitrakuta's  hill. 

And  Rama  there,  with  Lakshman's  aid, 

A  pleasant  little  cottage  made, 

And  spent  his  days  with  {Sita,  dressed 


1  'Chandra,  or  the  Moon,  is  fabled  to  have 
been  married  to  the  twenty-seven  daughters 
of  the  patriarch  Daksha,  or  Asvini  and  the 
rest,  who  are  in  fact  personifications  of  the 
Lunar  Asterisms.  His  favourite  amongst 
them  was  Rohini  to  whom  he  so  wholly 
devoted  himself  as  to  neglect  the  rest.  They 
complained  to  their  father,  and  Daksha 
repeatedly  interposed,  till,  tinding  his 
remonstrances  vain,  he  denounced  a  curse 
upon  his  son-in-law,  in  consequence  of 
which  he  remained  childless  and  became 
affected  by  consumption.  The  wives  of 
Chandra  having  interceded  in  his  behalf 
with  their  father,  Daksha  modified  an 
imprecation  which  he  could  not  recall, 
and  pronounced  that  the  decay  should  be 
periodical  only,  not  permanent,  and  that 
it  should  alternate  with  periods  of  recovery. 
Hence  the  successive  wane  and  increase 
of  the  Moon.  Padma  Purdna,  temarga- 
lihanda,)  Sec.  II.  Rohini  in  Astronomy  is 
the  fourth  lunar  mansion,  containing  live 
Starr?,  the  principal  of  which  is  Aldebaran.' 
WILSON,  Specimens  of  the  Hindu 
Theatre.  Vol.  I.  p.  234. 

The  Bengal  recension  has   a  different 
reading  : 

*  Shone  with  her  husband  like  the  light 
Attendant  ou  the  Lord  of  .Night.' 


In  coat  of  bark  and  deerskin  vest.1 
And  Chitrakuta  grew  to  be 
As  bright  with  those  illustrious  three 
As  Meru's*  sacred  peaks  that  shine 
With  glory,  when  the  Gods  recline 
Beneath  them  :    Diva's3  self  between 
The  Lord  of  Gold  and  Beauty's  Queen. 

The  aged  king  for  Rama  pined, 
And  for  the  skies  the  earth  resigned. 
Bharat,  his  son,  refused  to  reign, 
Though  urged  by  all  the  twice-born4  train. 
Forth  to  the  woods  he  fared  to  meet 
His  brother,  fell  before  his  feet, 
And  cried, '  Thy  clain  all  men  allow  : 
O  come,  our  lord  and  king  be  thou.' 
But  Kama  nobly  chose  to  be 
Observant  of  his  sire's  decree. 
He  placed  his  sandals5  in  his  hand 
A  pledge  that  he  would  rule  the  land  : 
And  bade  his  brother  turn  again. 
Then  Bharat,  finding  prayer  was  vain, 
The  sandals  took  and  went  away  ; 
Nor  in  Ayodhya  would  he  stay. 
But  turned  to  Nandigrama.  where 
He  ruled  the  realm  with  watchful  care, 
Still  longing  eagerly  to  learn 
Tidings  of  Rama's  safe  return. 

Then  lest  the  people  should  repeat 
Their  visit  to  his  calm  retreat, 
Away  from  Chitrakuta's  hill 
Fared  Rama  ever  onward  till 

'The  garb  prescribed  for  ascetics  by  Manu. 

2  'Mount  Meru,  situated  like  Kailasa  in 
the  lofty  regions    to   the    north    of  the 
Himalayas,  is  celebrated  in  the  traditions 
and  myths  of  India.     Meru   and   Kailasa 
are  the  two  Indian  Olympi.     Perhaps  they 
were  held  in  such  veneration  because  the 
Sanskrit-speaking  Indians  remembered  the 
ancient  home  where  they  dwelt  with  the 
other  primitive  peoples  of   their  family 
before  they  descended  to   occupy  the  vast 
plains  which  extend  between  the  Indus  and 
the  Ganges. '    GORRESIO. 

3  The  third  God  of  the  Indian  Triad,  the 
God  of  destruction  and  reproduction.    See 
Additional  i\otes. 

4  The  epithet  dwija,  or  twice-born,  is 
usually  appropriate  to   B rah  mans,  but  is 
applicable    to    the    three    higher    castes. 
Investiture  with  the   sacred   thread   and 
initiation  of  the  neophyte    into    certain 
religious  mysteries  are    regarded  as  his 
regeneration  or  second  birth. 

6  His  shoes  to  be  a  memorial  of  the  absent 
heir  and  to  maintain  his  right.  Kalidasa 
(liaghuvansa,  XII.  17.)  says  that  they  were 
to  be  adhidevate  or  guardian  deitiea  of 
the  kingdom. 


Canto  I. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Beneath  the  shady  trees  he  stood 
Of  Dandaka's  primeval  wood, 
Viradha,  giant  fiend,  he  slew, 
And  then  Agastya's  friendship  knew. 
Counselled  by  him  he  gained  the  sword 
And  bow  of   Indra,  heavenly  lord  : 
A  pair  of  quivers  too,  that  bore 
Of  arrows  an  exhaustless  store. 
While  there  he  dwelt  in  greenwood  shade 
The  trembling  hermits  sought  his  aid, 
And  bade  him  with  his  sword  and  bow 
Destroy  the  tiends  who  worked  them  woe: 
To  come  like  Indra  strong  and  brave, 
A  guardian  God  to  help  and  save. 
And  Kama's  falchion  left  its  trace 
Deep  cut  on  ^urpanakha's  face  : 
A  hideous  giantess  who  came 
Burning  for  him  with  lawless  flame. 
Their  sister's  cries  the  giants  heard. 
And  vengeance  in  each  bosom  stirred  : 
The  monster  of  the  triple  head. 
And  Dushan  to  the  contest  sped. 
But  they  and  myriad  fiends  beside 
Beneath  the  might  of  Kama  died. 

When  Ravan.  dreaded  warrior,  knew 
The  slaughter  of  his  giant  crew  : 
Ravan,  the  kin°f,  whose  name  of  fear 
Earth,  hell,  and  heaven  all  shook  to  hear: 
He  bade  the  fiend  Maricha  aid 
The  vengeful  plot  his  fury  laid. 
In  vain  the  wise  Maricha  tried 
To  turn  him  from  his  course  aside  : 
Not  Ravan's  self,  he  said,  might  hope 
With  Kama  and  his  strength  to  cope. 
Impelled  by  fate  and  blind  with  rage 
He  came  to  Kama's  hermitage. 
There,  by  Marie  ha' s  magic  art, 
He  wiled  the  princely  youths  apart, 
The  vulture1    slew,  and  bore  away 
The  wife  of  Rama  as  his  prey. 
The  son  of  Raghu*  came  and  found 
Jatayu  slain  upon  the  ground. 
He  rushed  within  his  leafy  cot  ; 
He  sought  his  wife,  but  found  her  not. 
Then,  then  the  hero's  senses  failed  ; 
In  mad  despair  he  wept  and  wailed. 
Upon  the  pile  that  bird  he  laid, 
And  still  in  quest  of  Sita  strayed, 
A  hideous  giant  then  he  saw, 
Kabandha  named,  a  shape  of  awe. 


1  Jatayu,  a  semi -divine  bird,  the  friend 
of  Kama,  who  fought  in  defence  of  Sita. 

*  Raglm  was  one  of  the  most  celebrated 
ancestors  of  Rama  whose  commonest 
appellation  is,  therefore,  Kaghava  or 
descendant  of  Raghu.  Kalidasa  in  the 
Raghuvahsa  makes  him  the  son  of  Dilipa 
and  great-grandfather  of  Kama.  See 
Idylh  from  the  8an*kritt  *  Aja'  and 
4  inlipu,' 


The  monstrous  fiend  he  smote  and  slew, 

And  in  the  flame  the  body  threw  ; 

When  straight  from  out  the  funeral  flame 

In  lovely  form  Kabandha  came, 

And  bade  him  seek  in  his  distress 

A  wise  and  holy  hermitess. 

By  counsel  of  this  saintly  dame 

To  Tampa's  pleasant  flood  he  came, 

And  there  the  steadfast  friendship  won 

Of  Hanuman  the  Wind-God's  son. 

Counselled  by  him  he  told  his  grief 

To  great  Sugriva,  Vanar  chief, 

Who,  knowing  all  the  tale,  before 

The  sacred  flame  alliance  swore. 

Sugriva  to  his  new-found  friend 

Told  his  own  story  to  the  end  : 

His  hate  of  Bali  for  the  wrong 

And  insult  he  had  borne  so  long. 

And  Rama  lent  a  willing  ear 

And  promised  to  allay  his  fear. 

Sugriva  warned  him  of  the  might 

Of   Bali,  matchless  in  the  fight, 

And,  credence  for  his  tale  to  gain, 

Showed  the  huge  fiend1  by  Bali  slain. 

The  prostrate  corse  of  mountain  size 

Seemed  nothing  in  the  hero's  eyes  ; 

He  lightlv  kicked  it,  as  it  lay, 

And  cast  it  twenty  leagues2  away. 

To  prove  his  might  his  arrows  through 

Seven  palms  in  line,  uninjured,  flew. 

He  cleft  a  mighty  hill  apart, 

And  down  to  hell  he  hurled  his  dart. 

Then  high  Sugrjva's  spirit  rose, 

Assured  of  conquest  o'er  his  foes. 

With  his  new  champion  by  his  side 

To  vast  Kishkindha's  cave  he  hied. 

Then,  summoned  by  his  awful  shout, 

King  Bali  came  in  fury  out, 

First  comforted  his  trembling  wife, 

Then  sought  Sugriva  in  the  strife. 

One  shaft  from  Rama's  deadly  bow 

The  monarch  in  the  dust  laid  low. 

Then  Kama  bade  Sugriva  reign 

In  place  of  royal  Bali  slain. 

Then  speedy  envoys  hurried  forth 

Eastward  and  westward,  south  and  north, 

Commanded  by  the  grateful  king 

Tidings  of  Rama's  spouse  to  bring. 

Then  by  Sarnpati's  counsel  led, 
Brave  Hanuman,  who  mocked  at  dread, 
Sprang  at  one  wild  tremendous  leap 
Two  hundred  leagues  across  the  deep, 
To  Lanka's3  town  he  urged  his  way, 
Where  Ravan  held  his  royal  sway. 


1  Dundhubi. 

2  Literally  ten  yojanas.    The  yojana  is 
a  measure  of  uncertain  length   variously 
reckoned  as  equal  to  nine  miles,  five,  and 
a  little  less. 

3  Ceylon. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool  I. 


There  pensive  'neath  Asoka1  boughs 

He  found  poor  Sita,  Kama's  spouse. 

He  gave  the  hapless  girl  a  ring, 

A  token  from,  her  lord  and  king, 

A  pledge  from  her  fair  hand  he  bore  ; 

Then  battered  down  the  garden  door. 

Five  captains  of  the  host  he  slew, 

Seven  sons  of  councillors  o'erthrew  ; 

Crushed  youthful  Aksha  on  the  field, 

Then  to  his  captors  chose  to  yield. 

Soon  from  their  bonds  his  limbs  were  free, 

But  honouring  the  high  decree 

"Which  Brahma2  had  pronounced  of  yore, 

He  calmly  all  their  insults  bore, 

The  town  he  burnt  with  hostile  flame, 

And  spoke  again  with  Kama's  dame, 

Then  swiftly  back  to  Kama  flew 

With  tidings  of  the  interview. 

Then  with  Sugriva  for  his  guide, 
Came  Kama  to  the  ocean  side. 
He  smote  tiie  sea  with  shafts  as  bright 
As  sunbeams  in  their  summer  height, 
And  quick  appeared  the  Rivers'  King3 
Obedient  to  the  summoning. 
A  bridge  was  thrown  by  Nala  o'er 
The  narrow  sea  from  shore  to  shore.4 
They  crossed  to  Lanka's  golden  town, 
Where  Kama's  hand  smote  Kavan  down. 
Vibhishan  there  was  left  to  reign 
Over  his  brother's  wide  domain. 
To  meet  her  husband  Sita  came  ; 
But  Kama,  stung  with  ire  and  shame, 
With  bitter  words  his  wife  addressed 
Before  the  crowd  that  round  her  pressed. 
But  Sita,  touched  with  noble  ire, 
Gave  her  fair  body  to  the  tire. 
Then  straight  the  God  of  Wind  appeared, 
And  words  from  heaven  her  honour  cleared. 
And  Rama  clasped  his  wife  again, 
Uninjured,  pure  from  spot  and  stain, 
Obedient  to  the  Lord  of  Fire 
And  the  high  mandate  of  his  sire. 
Led  by  the  Lord  who  rules  the  sky, 
The  Gods  arid  heavenly  saints  drew  nigh, 
And  honoured  him  with  worthy  meed, 
Rejoicing  in  each  glorious  deed. 
His  task  achieved,  his  foe  removed, 


1  The  Jonesia  Asoka  is  a  most  beautiful 
tree  bearing  a  profusion  of  red  blossoms. 

58  Brahma,  the  Creator,    is  usually  re- 
garded as  tiie  first  Gool  of  the  Indian'  Tri- 
nity, although,  as  Kalidasa  says  : 
*  Of  Brahma,  Vishnu,  $iva,  each  may  be 
First,  second ,  third,  amid  the  blessed  Three. 

Brahma  had  guaranteed   Kavan's  lift 
against  all  enemies  except  man. 

3  Ocean  personified. 

4  The  rocks  lying  between  Ceylon  and 
the    mainland    are    still    called    Kama'i 
Bridge  by  the  Hindus, 


le  triumphed,  by  the  Gods  approved, 
ty  grace  of  Heaven  he  raised  to  life 
The  chieftains  slain  in  mortal  strife  ; 
Chen  in  tiie  magic  chariot  through 
The  clouds  to  Nandigrama  Mew. 
Met  by  his  faithful  brothers  there, 
lie  loosed  his  votive  coil  of  hair  : 
Thence  fair  Ayodhya's  town  he  gained, 
And  o'er  his  father's  kingdom  reigned. 
Disease  or  famine  ne'er  oppressed 
His  happy  people,  richly  blest 
With  all  the  joys  of  ample  wealth, 
Of  sweet  content  and  perfect  health. 
No  widow  mourned  her  well -loved  mate, 
No  sire  his  son's  untimely  fate. 
They  feared  not  storm  or  robber's  haud  : 
No  lire  or  flood  laid  waste  the  land  ; 
The  Golden  Age1  had  come  again 
To  bless  the  days  of  Kama's  reign. 

From  him,  the  great  and  glorious  king, 
Shall  many  a  princely  scion  spring. 
And  he  shall  rule,  beloved  by  men, 
Ten  thousand  years  and  hundreds  ten,2 
And  when  his  life  on  earth  is  past 
To  Brahma's  world  shall  go  at  last.' 

Whoe'er  this  noble  poem  reads 
That  tells  the  tale  of  Kama's  deeds, 
Good  as  the  Scriptures,  he  shall  be 
From  every  sin  and  blemish  free. 
Whoever  reads  the  saving  strain, 
With  all  his  kin  the  heavens  shall  gain. 
Brahmans  who  read  shall  gather  hence 
The  highest  praise  for  eloquence. 
The  warrior,  o'er  the  land  shall  reign, 
The  merchant,  luck  in  trade  obtain  ; 
And  ^udras  listening3  ne'er  shall  fail 
To  reap  advantage  from  the  tale.4 


1  'The  Brahmans,  with  H  system  rather 
cosmogonical  than  chronological,  divide 
the  present  mundane  period  into  four  ages 
or  yngas  as  they  call  them  :  the  Krita,  the 
Treta,  the  Dwapara,  and  the  Kali.  The 
Krita,  called  also  the  Deva-yuga  or  that 
of  the  Gods,  is  the  age  of  truth,  the  perfect 
age,  the  Treta  is  the  age  of  the  three 
sacred  fires,  domestic  and  sacrificial  ;  the 
Dwapara  is  the  age  of  doubt;  the  Kali, 
the  present  age,  is  the  age  of  evil.' 
GofiRESio. 

a  The  ancient  kings  of  India  enjoyed 
lives  of  more  than  patriarchal  length  as 
will  appear  in  the  course  of  the  poem. 

3  £udras,  men  of  the  fourth  and  lowest 
pure  caste,  were   not  allowed   to  read  the 
poem,  but  might  hear  it  recited. 

4  The  three    slokes  or  distichs    which 
these  twelve  lines  represent  are  evidently 
a  still  later  and  very  awkward  addition  to 
the  introduction. 


Canto  II. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


CANTO  II. 


BRAHMA'S  VISIT. 

Vafmiki,  graceful  speaker,  heard, 

To  highest  admiration  stirred. 

To  him  whose  fame  the  tale  rehearsed 

He  paid  his  mental  worship  first ; 

Then  with  his  pupil  humbly  bent 

Before  the  saint  most  eloquent. 

Thus  honoured  and  dismissed  the  seer 

Departed  to  his  heavenly  sphere. 

Then  from  his  cot  Valmiki  hied 

'To  TamasaV  sequestered  side. 

Not  far  remote  from  Ganga's  tide. 

He  stood  and  saw  the  ripples  roll 

Pellucid  o'er  a  pebbly  shoal. 

To  Bharadvaja*  by  his  side 

He  turned  in  ecstasy,  and  cried  : 

'See,  pupil  dear,  this  lovely  sight, 

The  smooth- floored  shallow,pure  and  bright 

With  not  a  speck  or  shade  to  mar, 

And  clear  as  good  men's  bosoms  are. 

Here  on  the  brink  thy  pitcher  lay, 

And  bring  my  zone  of  bark,  I  pray. 

Here  will  I  bathe  :  the  rill  has  not, 

To  lave  the  limbs,  a  fairer  spot. 

Do  quickly  as  I  bid,  nor  waste 

The  precious  time  ;  away,  and  haste,' 

Obedient  to  his  master's  hest 
Quick  from  the  cot  he  brought  the  vest ; 
The  hermit  took  it  from  his  hand, 
And  tightened  round  his  waist  the  band  ; 
Then  duly  dipped  and  bathed  him  there, 
And  muttered  low  his  secret  prayer. 
To  spirits  and  to  Gods  he  made 
Libation  of  the  stream,  and  strayed 
Viewing  the  forest  deep  and  wide 
That  spread  its  shade  on  every  side. 
Close  by  the  bank  he  saw  a  pair 
Of  curlews  sporting  fearless  there. 
Hut  suddenly  with  evil  mind 
An  outcast  fowler  stole  behind, 
And,  with  an  aim.  too  sure  and  true, 
The  male  bird  near  the  hermit  slew. 


1  There  are  several  rivers  in  India  of 
this  name,  now  corrupted  into  Tonse,  The 
river  here  spoken  of  is  that  which  falls 
into  the  Ganges  a  little  below  Allahabad. 

2 'In  Book  II,,  Canto  LIV.,  we  meet 
with  a  saint  of  this  name  presiding  over  a 
convent  of  disciples  in  his  hermitage  at 
the  confluence  of  the  Ganges  and  the 
Jumna.  Thence  the  later  author  of  these 
introductory  cantos  has  borrowed  the 
name  and  person,  inconsistently  indeed, 
but  with  the  intention  of  enhancing  the 
dignity  of  the  poet  by  ascribing  to  him 
so  celebrated  a  disciple.'  SCHLEGEL, 


The  wretched  hen  in  wild  despair 
With  fluttering  pinions  beat  the  air, 
And  shrieked  a  long  and  bitter  cry 
When  low  on  earth  she  saw  him  lie, 
Her  loved  companion,  quivering,  dead, 
His  dear  wings  with  his  lifeblood  red  ; 
And  for  her  golden  crested  mate 
She  mourned,  and  was  disconsolate. 

The  hermit  saw   the  slaughtered  bird, 
And  all  his  heart  with  ruth  was  stirred. 
The  fowler's  impious  deed  distressed 
His  gentle  sympathetic  breast, 
And  while  the  curlew's  sad  cries  rang 
Within  his  ears,  the  hermit  sang  : 

*  No  fame  be  thine  for  endless  time, 
Because,  base  outcast,  of  thy  crime, 
Whose  cruel  hand  was  fain  to  slay 
One  of  this  gentle  pair  at  play  ! ' 
E'en  as  he  spoke  his  bosom  wrought 
And  laboured  with  the  wondering  thought 
What  was  the  speech  his  ready  tongue 
Had  uttered  when  his  heart  was  wrung. 
He  pondered  long  upon  the  speech, 
Recalled  the  words  and  measured  each, 
And  thus  exclaimed  the  saintly  guide 

To  Bharadvaja  by  his  side: 

*  With  equal  lines  of  even  feet, 

With  rhythm  and  time  and  tone  complete, 
The  measured  form  of  words  I  spoke 
In  shock  of  grief  be  termed  a  sloke.'1 
And  Bharadvaja,  nothing  slow 
His  faithful  love  and  zeal  to  show, 
Answered  those  words  of  wisdom,  '  Be 
The  name,  my  lord,  as  pleases  thee.' 
As  rules  prescribe  the  hermit  took 
Some  lustral  water  from  the  brook. 
But  still  on  this  his  constant  thought 
Kept  brooding,  as  his  home  he  sought ; 
While  Bharadvaja  paced  behind, 
A  pupil  sage  of  lowly  mind, 
And  in  his  hand  a  pitcher  bore 
With  pure  fresh  water  brimming  o'er. 
Soon  as  they  reached  their  calm  retreat 
The  holy  hermit  took  his  seat ; 
!iis  mind  from  worldly  cares  recalled, 
And  mused  in  deepest  thought  enthralled. 
Then  glorious  Brahma,2  Lord  Most  High, 
Creator  of  the  earth  and  sky, 


1  The  poet  plays  upon  the  similarity  in 
sound  of  the  two  words :  soha,  means 
^rief,  sloka,  the  heroic  measure  in  which 
he  poem  is  composed.  It  need  scarcely 
je  said  that  the  derivation  is  fanciful. 

z  Brahma,  the  Creator,  is  usually  regarded 
as  the  first  person  of  the  divine  triad  of 
ndia.  The  four  heads  with  which  he  is 
epresented  are  supposed  to  have  allusion 
o  the  four  corners  of  the  earth  which  he 
s  sometimes  considered  to  personify.  As 
an  object  of  adoration  Brahma  has  been 


8 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  I. 


The  four-faced  God,  to  meet  the  sage 
Came  to  Valmiki's  hermitage. 
Soon  as  the  mighty  God  he  saw, 
Up  sprang  the  saint  in  wandering  awe. 
Mute,  with  clasped  hands,  Ins  head  he  bent, 
And  stood  before  him  reverent. 
His  honoured  guest  he  greeted  well, 
Who  bade  him  of  his  welfare  tell  ; 
Gave  water  for  his  blessed  feet, 
Brought  offerings,1  and  prepared  a  seat, 
In  honoured  place  the  God  Most  High 
Sate  down,  and  bade  the  saint  sit  nigh. 
There  sate  before  Valmiki's  eyes 
The  Father  of  the  earth  and  skies  ; 
But  still  the  hermit's  thoughts  were  bent 
On  one  thing  only,  all  intent 
On  that  poor  curlew's  mournful  fate 
Lamenting  for  her  slaughtered  mate  ; 
And  still  his  lips,  in  absent  mood, 
The  verse  that  told  his  grief,  renewed  : 
'  Woe  to  the  fowler's  impious  hand 
That  did  the  deed  that  folly  planned  ; 
That  could  to  needless  death  devote 
The  curlew  of  the  tuneful  throat  1  ' 

The  heavenly  Father  smiled  in  glee, 
And  saiil,  '0  best  of  hermits,  see, 
A  verse,  unconscious,  thou  hast  made  ; 
^No  longer  be  the  task  delayed. 
Seek  not  to  trace,  with  labour  vain, 
The  unpremeditated  strain. 
The  tuneful  lines  thy  lips  rehearsed 
Spontaneous  from  thy  bosom  burst. 
Then  come,  0  best  of  seers,  relate 
The  life  of  Rama  good  and  great, 
The  tale  that  saintly  Narad  told, 
In  all  its  glorious  length  unfold. 
Of  all  the  deeds  his  arm  ha?  done 
"Upon  this  earth,  omit  not  one, 
And  thus  the  noble  life  record 
Of  that  wise,  brave,  aiid  virtuous  lord. 


entirely  superseded  by  $iva  and  Vishnu. 
In  the  whole  of  India  there  is,  I  believe, 
but  one  temple  dedicated  to  his  worship. 
In  this  point  the  first  of  the  Indian  triad 
curiously  resembles  the  last  of  the  divine 
fraternity  of  Greece,  Aides  the  brother  of 
Zeus  and  Poseidon.  *  In  all  Greece,  says 
fausanias,  there  is  no  single  temple  of 
Aides,  except  at  a  single  spot  in  Elis.'  See 
Gladstone's  Juventus  Alundi,  p.  253. 

1  The  arglia  or  arghya  was  a  libation  or 
offering  to  a  deity,  a  Brahman,  or  other 
venerable  personage.  According  to  one 
authority  it  consisted  of  water,  milk,  the 
points  of  Kusa-grass,  curds,  clarified  butter, 
rice,  barley,  and  white  mustard  ;  according 
to  another,  of  saffron,  bel,  unbroken  grain, 
flowers,  curds,  durba-grass,  kusa-graas,  and 
sesamum, 


His  every  act  to  day  displayed, 
His  secret  life  to  none  betrayed  : 
How  Lakshinan,  how  the  giants  fought; 
With  high  emprise  and  hidden  thought  : 
And  all  that  Janak's  child1  befell 
Where  all  could  see,  where  none  could  tell, 
The  whole  of  this  shall  truly  be 
Made  known,  O  best  of  saints,  to  thee. 
In  all  thy  poem,  through  my  grace, 
No  word  of  falsehood  shall  have  place. 
Begin  the  story,  and  rehearse 
The  tale  divine  in  charming  verse. 
As  long  as  in  this  firm -set  land 
The  streams  shall  flow,the  mountains  stand, 
So  long  throughout  the  world,  be  sure, 
The  great  Ramayan  shall  endure.2 
While  the  Ramayan 's  ancient  strain 
Shall  glorious  in  the  earth  remain, 
To  higher  spheres  shalt  thou  arise 
And  dwell  with  me  above  the  skies.' 

He  spoke,  and  vanished  into  air, 
And  left  Valmiki  wondering  there. 
The  pupils  of  the  holy  man, 
Moved  by  their  love  of  him,  began 
To  chant  that  verse,  and  ever  more 
They  marvelled  as  they  sang  it  o'er  : 
*  Behold,  the  four-lined  balanced  rime, 
Repeated  over  many  a  time, 
In  words  that  from  the  hermit  broke 
In  shock  of  grief,  becomes  a  sloke.' 
This  measure  now  Valmiki  chose 
Wherein  his  story  to  compose. 
In  hundreds  of  such  verses,  sweet 
With  equal  lines  and  even  feet, 
The  saintly  poet,  lofty -souled, 
The  glorious  deeds  of  Rama  told. 

CANTO  III. 
THE  ARGUMENT. 

The  hermit  thus  with  watchful  heed 
Received  the  poem's  pregnant  seed, 
And  looked  with  eager  thought  around 
If  fuller  knowledge  might  be  found. 

1  8ita,  daughter  of  Janak  king  of  Mithila. 

*  *  I  congratulate  myself,'  says  Schlegel 
in  the  preface  to  his,  alas,  unfinished  edi- 
tion of  the  Ramayan,  '  that,  by  the  favour 
of  the  Supreme  Deity,  I  have  been  allowed ' 
to  begin  so  great  a  work  ;  I  glory  andi 
make  my  boast  that  I  too  after  so  many 
ages  have  helped  to  confirm  that  ancient 
oracle  declared  to  Valmiki  by  the  Father 
of  Gods  and  men  : 

Bum  stabunt  montes,  campis  dum  flumina 

current, 

Usque  tuum  toto  carmen  celebrabitur  orbe,' 


Canto  III. 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


His  lips  with  water  first  bedewed,1 

He  sate  in  reverent  attitude 

On  holy  grass,2  the  points  all  bent 

Together  toward  the  orient  ;3 

And  thus  in  meditation  he 

Entered  the  path  of  poesy. 

Then  clearly,  through  his  virtue's  might, 

All  lay  discovered  to  his  sight, 

Whatever  befell,  through  all  their  life, 

Rama,  his  brother,  and  his  wife  : 

And  Dasaratha  and  each  queen 

At  every  time,  in  every  scene  : 

His  people  too,  of  every  sort ; 

The  nobles  of  his  princely  court  : 

Whatever  was  said,  whate'er  decreed, 

Each  time  they  sate,  each  plan  and  deed  : 

For  holy  thought  and  fervent  rite 

Had  so  refined  his  keener  sight 

That  by  his  sanctity  his  view 

The  present,  past,  and  future  knew, 

And  he  with  mental  eye  could  grasp, 

Like  fruit  within  his  fingers'  clasp, 

The  life  of  Rama,  great  and  good, 

Roaming  with  Sita  in  the  wood. 

He  told,  with  secret-piercing  eyes, 

The  tale  of  Rama's  high  emprise. 

Each  listening  ear  that,  shall  entice, 

A  sea  of  pearls  of  highest  price. 

Thus  good  Valmiki,  sage  divine, 

Rehearsed  the  tale  of  Raghu's  line, 

As  Narad,  heavenly  saint,  before 

Had  traced  the  story's  outline  o'er. 

He  sang  of  Rama's  princely  birth, 

His  kindness  and  heroic  worth  ; 

His  love  for  all,  his  patient  youth, 

His  gentleness  and  constant  truth, 

And  many  a  tale  and  legend  old 

By  holy  Visvamitra  told. 

How  Janak's  child  he  wooed  and  won, 

And  broke  the  bow  that  bent  to  none. 

How  he  with  every  virtue  fraught 

His  namesake  Rain  a4  met  and  fought, 

The  choice  of  Rama  for  the  throne  ; 

The  malice  by  Kaikeyi  shown, 

Whose  evil  counsel  marred  the  plan 

And  drove  him  forth  a  banisht  man. 

How  the  king  grieved  and  groaned,andcried, 

1  'The  sipping  of  water  is  a  requisite 
introduction  of  all  rites  :  without  it,  says 
the  S&mba  Purana,  all  acts  of  religion 
are  vain.'  COLEBBOOKE. 

*  The  darbha  or  kusa,  (Poa  cynosure  ides), 
a  kind  of  grass  used  in  sacrifice  by  the 
Hindus  as  verbena  was  by  the  Romans, 

3  The     direction    in    which   the   grass 
should  be  placed  upon  the  ground  as  a 
seat  for  the  Gods,  on  occasion  of  offerings 
made  to  them. 

4  Parasurama  or  Raina   with  the  Axe, 
See  Canto  LXXIV, 


And  swooned  away  and  pining  died. 

The  subjects'  woe  when  thus  bereft ; 

And  how  the  following  crowds  he  left  I 

With  Guha  talked,  and  firmly  stern 

Ordered  his  driver  to  return. 

How  Ganga's  farther  shore  he  gained ; 

By  Bharadvaja  entertained, 

By  whose  advice  he  journeyed  still 

And  came  to  Chitrakuta's  hill. 

How  there  he  dwelt  and  built  a  cot ; 

How  Bharat  journeyed  to  the  spot ; 

His  earnest  supplication  made  ; 

Drink -offerings  to  their  father  paid  ; 

The  sandals  given  by  Rama's  hand, 

As  emblems  of  his  right,  to  stand  : 

How  from  his  presence  Bharat  went 

And  years  in  Nandigrama  spent. 

How  Rama  entered  Dandak  wood 

And  in  Sutikhna's  presence  stood. 

The  favour  Anasuya  showed, 

The  wondrous  balsam  she  bestowed. 

How  ^arabhanga's  dwelling-place 

They  sought;  saw  Indra  face  to  face ; 

The  meeting  with  Agastya  gained  ; 

The  heavenly  bow  from  him  obtained. 

How  Kama  with  Viradha  met ; 

Their  home  in  Panchavata  set. 

How  £urpanakha  underwent 

The  mockery  and  disfigurement. 

Of  Trigira's  and  Khara's  fall, 

Of  Ravaft  roused  at  vengeance'  call, 

Maricha  doomed,  without  escape  ; 

The  fair  Videhan1  lady's  rape. 

How  Raina  wept  and  raved  in  vain, 

And  how  the  Vulture- king  was  slain. 

How  Rama  fierce  Kabandha  slew  ; 

Then  to  the  side  of  Parnpa  drew, 

Met  Hanuman,  and  her  whose  vows 

Were  kept  beneath  the  greenwood  boughs. 

How  Raghu's  son,  the  lofty-souled, 

On  Pampa's  bank  wept  uncontrolled, 

Then  journeyed,  Rishyamuk  to  reach, 

And  of  Sugriva  then  had  speech. 

The  friendship  made,   which  both  had 

sought ; 

How  Bali  and  Sugriva  fought. 
How  Bali  in  the  strife  was  slain, 
And  how  Sugriva  came  to  reign. 
The  treaty,  Tara's  wild  lament ; 
The  rainy  nights  in  watching  spent. 
The  wrath  of  Raghu's  lion  son  ; 
The  gathering  of  the  hosts  in  one, 
The  sending  of  the  spies  about, 
And  all  the  regions  pointed  out. 
The  ring  by  Rama's  hand  bestowed  ; 
The  cave  wherein  the  bear  abode. 
The  fast  proposed,  their  lives  to  end  ; 
Sampati  gained  to  be  their  friend. 


1  Sita.  Videha  was  the  country  of  which 
Mithila  was  the  capital, 


10 


The  scaling  of  the  hill,  the  leap 

Of  Hanuman  across  the  deep. 

Ocean's  command  that  bade  them  seek 

Mainaka  of  the  lofty  peak. 

The  death  of  Sinhika,  the  sight 

Of  Lanka  with  her  palace  bright. 

How  Hanuman  stole  in  at  eve  ; 

His  plan  the  giants  to  deceive. 

How  through  the  square  he  made  his  way 

To  chambers  where  the  women  lay, 

Within  the  Asoka  garden  came 

And  there  found  Rama's  captive  dame. 

His  colloquy  with  her  he  sought, 

And  giving  of  the  ring  he  brought. 

How  Sita  gave  a  gem  o'er  joyed  ; 

How  Hanuman  the  grove  destroyed. 

How  giantesses  trembling  fled, 

And  servant  fiends  were  smitten  dead. 

How  Hanuman  was  seized  ;  their  ire 

When  Lanka  blazed  with  hostile  fire. 

His  leap  across  the  sea  once  more  ; 

The  eating  of  the  honey  store. 

How  Rama  he  consoled,  and  how 

He  showed  the  gem  from  Sita's  brow. 

With  Ocean,  Rama's  interview  ; 

The  bridge  that  Nala  o'er  it  threw. 

The  crossing,  and  the  sitting  down 

At  night  round  Lanka's  royal  town. 

The  treaty  with  Vibhishan  made  ; 

The  plan  for  Kavan's  slaughter  laid. 

How  Kumbhakarna  in  his  pride 

And  Meghanada  fought  and  died. 

How  Ravan  in  the  fight  was  slain, 

And  captive  Sita  brought  again. 

Vibhishan  set  upon  the  throne  ; 

The  flying  chariot  Pushpak  shown. 

How  Brahma  and  the  Gods  appeared, 

And  Sita's  doubted  honour  cleared. 

How  in  the  flying  car  they  rode 

To  Bharadvaja's  calm  abode. 

The  Wind- God's  son  sent  on  afar ; 

How  Bharat  met  the  flying  car. 

How  Rama  then  was  king  ordained  ; 

The  legions  their  discharge  obtained. 

How  Rama  cast  his  queen  away  ; 

How  grew  the  people's  love  each  day. 

Thus  did  the  saint  Valmiki  tell 

Whate'erin  Kama's  life  befell, 

And  in  the  closing  verses  all 

That  yet  to  come  will  once  befall. 


CANTO  IV. 


THE  RHAPSODISTS. 

When  to  the  end  the  tale  was  brought, 
Rose  in  the  sage's  mind  the  thought  ; 
'Now  who  throughout  this  earth  will  go, 
And  tell  it  forth  that  all  may  know  ? ' 


THE  RAM  A? AN.  Boo~k  I. 

As  thus  he  mused  with  anxious  breast, 
Behold,  in  hermit's  raiment  dressed, 
Kus&  and  Lava1  came  to  greet 
Their  master  and  embrace  his  feet. 
The  twins  he  saw,  that  princely  pair 
Sweet-voiced,  who  dwelt  beside  him  there. 
None  for  the  task  could  be  more  tit, 
For  skilled  were  they  in  Holy  Writ; 
And  so  the  great  Ramayan,  fraught 
With  lore  divine,  to  thes«  he  taught : 
The  lay  whose  verses  sweet  and  clear 
Take  with  delight  the  listening  ear, 
That  tell  of  Sita's  noble  life 
And  Ravan's  fall  in  battle  strife. 
Great  joy  to  all  who  hear  they  bring, 
Sweet  to  recite  and  sweet  to  sing. 
For  music's  sevenfold  notes  are  there, 
And  triple  measure,5*  wrought  with  care, 
With  melody  and  tone  and  time, 
And  flavours3  that  enhance  the  rime  : 
Heroic  might  has  ample  place, 
And  loathing  of  the  false  and  base, 
With  anger,  mirth,  and  terror,  blent 
With  tenderness,  surprise,  content. 
When,  half  the  hermit's  grace  to  gain, 
And  half  because  they  loved  the  strain, 
The  youths  within  their  hearts  had  stored 
The  poem  that  his  lips  outpoured, 
Valmiki  kissed  them  on  the  head, 
As  at  his  feet  they  bowed,  and  said  : 
'  Recite  ye  this  heroic  song 
In  tranquil  shades  where  sages  throng  : 
Recite  it  where  the  good  resort, 
In  lowly  home  and  royal  court.' 

The  hermit  ceased.    The  tuneful  pair, 
Like  heavenly  minstrels  sweet  and  fair, 
In  music's  art  divinely  skilled, 
Their  saintly  master's  word  fulfilled. 
Like  Rama's  self,  from  whom  they  came, 
They  showed  their  sire  in  face  and  frame, 

The  twin  sons  of  Rama  and  Sita, 
born  after  Rama  had  repudiated  Sita, 
and  brought  up  in  the  hermitage  of 
Valmiki,  As  they  were  the  first  rhapso- 
dists  the  combined  name  Kusilava  signi- 
fies a  reciter  of  poems,  or  an  improvisa- 
tore,  even  to  the  present  day. 

»  Perhaps  the  bass,  tenor,  and  treble, 
or  quick,  slow  and  middle  time.  We  know 
but  little  of  the  ancient  music  of  the 
Hindus. 

3  *  Eight  flavours  or  sentiments  are  usually 
enumerated,  love,  mirth,  tenderness,  anger, 
heroism,  terror,  disgust,  and  surprise: 
tranquillity  or  content,  or  paternal  tender- 
ness,  is  sometimes  considered  as  the  ninth.' 
WILSON.  See  the  Sahitya  Darpana  or 
Mirror  of  Composition,  translated  by 
Dr.  Ballantyne  and  Babi'i  Pramadadasa 
Mittra  in  the  Eibliotlwca  Indica. 


Canto  V. 


THE  MM  AY  AN. 


11 


As  though  from  some  fair  sculptured  stone 

Two  selfsame  images  had  grown. 

.Sometimes  the  pair  rose  up  to  sing, 

Surrounded  by  a  holy  ring, 

Where  seated  on  the  grass  had  met 

Full  many  a  musing  anchoret. 

Then  tears  bedimmed  those  gentle  eyes, 

As  transport  took  them  arid  surprise, 

And  as  they  listened  every  one 

Cried  in  delight,  Well  done  !  Well  done  I 

Those  sages  versed  in  holy  lore 

Praised  the  sweet  minstrels  more  and  more: 

And  wondered  at  the  singers'  skill, 

And  the  bard's  verses  sweeter  still, 

Which  laid  so  clear  before  the  eye 

The  glorious  deeds  of  days  gone  by. 

Thus  by  the  virtuous  hermits  praised, 

Inspirited  their  voice  they  raised. 

Pleased  with  the  song  this  holy  man 

Would  give  the  youths  a  water-can  ; 

One  gave  a  fair  ascetic  dress, 

Or  sweet  fruit  from  the  wilderness. 

One  saint  a  black-deer's  hide  would  bring, 

And  one  a  sacrificial  string  : 

One,  a  clay  pitcher  from  his  hoard, 

And  one,  a  twisted  munja  cord.1 

One  in  his  joy  an  axe  would  find, 

One.  braid,  their  plaited  locks  to  bind. 

One  gave  a  sacrificial  cup, 

One  rope  to  tie  their  fagots  up  ; 

While  fuel  at  their  feet  was  laid, 

Or  hermit's  stool  of  fig-tree  made. 

All  gave,  or  if  they  gave  not,  none 

Forgot  at  least  a  benison. 

8ome  saints,  delighted  with  their  lays, 

Would  promise  health  and  length  of  days  ; 

Others  with  surest  words  would  add 

Some  boon  to  make  their  spirit  glad, 

In  such  degree  of  honour  then 

That  song  was  held  by  holy  men  : 

That  living  song  which  life  can  give, 

By  which  shall  many  a  minstrel  live. 

In  seat  of  kings,  in  crowded  hall, 

They  sang  the  poem,  praised  of  all. 

And  .Rama  chanced  to  hear  their  lay, 

While  he  the  votive  steed2  would  slay, 

And  sent  fit  messengers  to  bring 

The  minstrel  pair  before  the  king. 

They  came,  and  found  the  monarch  high 

Enthroned  in  gold,  his  brothers  nigh  ; 

While  many  a  minister  below, 

And  noble,  sate  in  lengthened  row. 

1  Saccharum  Munja  is  a  plant  from  whose 
fibres  is  twisted  the  sacred  string  which  a 
Brahman  wears  over  one  shoulder  after  he 
has  been  initiated  by  a  rite  which  in  some 
respects  answers  to  confirmation. 

54  A  description  of  an  Asvamedha  or 
Horse  Sacrifice  is  given  in  Canto  XIII.  of 
this  Book, 


The  youthful  pair  awhile  he  viewed 
Graceful  in  modest  attitude, 
And  then  in  words  like  these  addressed 
His  brother  Lakshmap  and  the  rest : 
'Come,  listen  to  the  wondrous  strain 
Recited  by  these  godlike  twain, 
Sweet  singers  of  a  story  fraught 
With  melody  and  lofty  thought.' 

The  pair,  with  voices  sweet  and  strong, 
Rolled  the  full  tide  of  noble  song, 
With  tone  and  accent  deftly  blent 
To  suit  the  changing  argument. 
Mid  that  assembly  loud  and  clear 
Rang  forth  that  lay  so  sweet  to  hear, 
That  universal  rapture  stole 
Through  each   man's   frame  and    heart 

and  soul. 

*  These  minstrels,  blest  with  every  sign 
That  marks  a  high  and  princely  line, 

In  holy  shades  who  dwell, 
Enshrined  in  Saint  Valmiki's  lay, 
A  monument  to  live  for  aye, 

My  deeds  in  song  shall  tell.' 
Thus  Rama  spoke:  their  breasts  were  fired, 
And  the  great  tale,  as  if  inspired, 

The  youths  began  to  sing, 
While  every  heart  with  transport  swelled, 
And  mute  and  rapt  attention  held 

The  concourse  and  the  king, 


CANTO  V. 


AYODHYA. 

*  Ikshvaku's  sons  from  days  of  old 
Were  ever  brave  and  mighty-souled. 
The  land  their  arms  had  made  their  own 
Was  bounded  by  the  sea  alone. 
Their  holy  works  have  won  them  praise, 
Through  countless  years,   from    Manu's 

days. 

Their  ancient  sire  was  Sagar,  he 
Whose  high  command  dug  out  the  sea :! 
With  sixty  thousand  sons  to  throng 
Around  him  as  he  marched  along. 
From  them  this  glorious  tale  proceeds  : 
The  great  Ramayan  tells  their  deeds. 
This  noble  song  whose  lines  contain 
Lessons  of  duty,  love,  and  gain, 
We  two  will  now  at  length  recite, 
While  good  men  listen  with  delight. 

On  Sarju's2  bank,  of  ample  size, 
The  happy  realm  of  Kosal  lies, 


1  This  exploit  is  related  in  Canto  XL. 

2  The  Sarju  or  Ghaghra,  anciently  cal- 
led Sarayu,  rises  in  the  Himalayas,  and 
after    flowing  through   the  province   of 
Oudh,  falls  into  the  Ganges. 


12 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  I. 


With  fertile  length  of  fair  champaign 
And  flocks  and  herds  and  wealth  of  grain. 
There,  famous  in  her  old  renown, 
Ayodhya1  stands,  the  royal  town, 
In  bygone  ages  built  and  planned 
By  sainted  Mann's2  princely  hand. 
Imperial  seat !  her  walls  extend 
Twelve  measured  leagues  from  end  to  end, 
And  three  in  width  from  side  to  side, 
With  square  and  palace  beautified. 
Her  gates  at  even  distance  stand  ; 
Her  ample  roads  are  wisely  planned. 
Kight  glorious  is  her  royal  street 
Where  streams  allay  the  dust  and  heat. 
On  level  ground  in  even  row 
Her  houses  rise  in  goodly  show  : 
Terrace  and  palace,  arch  and  gate 
The  queenly  city  decorate. 
High  are  her  ramparts,  strong  and  vast, 
By  ways  at  even  distance  passed, 
With  circling  moat,  both  deep  and  wide, 
And  store  of  weapons  fortified. 

King  Dasaratha,  lofty-souled, 
That  city  guarded  and  controlled, 
With  towering  JSal  trees  belted  round,3 
And  many  a  grove  and  pleasure  ground, 
As  royal  Indra,  throned  on  high, 
Eules  his  fair  city  in  the  sky,* 
She  seems  a  painted  city,  fair 
With  chess-board  line  and  even  square.5 
And  cool  boughs  shade  the  lovely  lake 


1  The  ruins  of  the  ancient  capital  of 
Bama  and  the  Children  of  the  Sun  may 
still  be  traced  in  the  present  Ajudhya  near 
Fyzabad.    Ajudhya 'is  the  Jerusalem  or 
Mecca  of  the  Hindus. 

2  A   legislator    and  saint,   the   son  of 
Brahma  or  a  personification  of  Brahma 
himself,  the  creator  of  the  world,   and 
progenitor    of    mankind.     Derived    from 
the  root  man  to  think,  the  word  means 
originally  man,  the  thinker,  and  is  found 
in  this  sense  in  the  Rig-yeda. 

Manu  as  a  legislator  is  identified  with 
the  Cretan  Minos,  as  progenitor  of  man- 
kind with  the  German  Mannus  :  *  Cele- 
brant carminibus  antiquis,  quod  unum 
apud  illos  memoriye  et  annalium  genus 
est,  Tuisconem  deum  terra  editum,  et 
filium  Mannum,  originem  gentis  condi- 
toresque.'  TACITUS,  Germania,  Cap.  II. 

3  The  Sal  (Shorea  E-obusta)  is  a  valu- 
able timber  tree  of  considerable  height. 

4  The  city  of  Indra  is  called  Amaravati 
or  Home  of  the  Immortals. 

3  Schlegel  thinks  that  this  refers  to  the 
marble  of  different  colours  with  which 
the  houses  were  adorned.  It  seems  more 
natural  to  understand  it  as  implying  the 
regularity  of  the  streets  and  houses. 


Where  weary  men  their  thirst  may  slake. 
There  gilded  chariots  gleam  and  shine, 
And  stately  piles  the  Gods  enshrine. 
There  gay  sleek  people  ever  throng 
To  festival  and  dance  and  song. 
A  mine  is  she  of  gems  and  sheen, 
The  darling  home  of  Fortune's  Queen. 
With  noblest  sort  of  drink  and  meat, 
The  fairest  rice  and  golden  wheat, 
And  fragrant  with  the  chaplet's  scent 
With  holy  oil  and  incense  blent. 
With  many  an  elephant  and  steed, 
And  wains  for  draught  and  cars  for  speed, 
With  envoys  sent  by  distant  kings, 
And  merchants  with  their  precious  thinga 
With  banners  o'er  her  roofs  that  play, 
And  weapons  that  a  hundred  slay  ;! 
All  warlike  engines  framed  by  man, 
And  every  class  of  artisan. 
A  city  rich  beyond  compare 
With  bards  and  minstrels  gathered  there, 
And  men  and  damsels  who  entrance 
The  soul  with  play  and  song  and  dance. 
In  every  street  is  heard  the  lute, 
The  drum,  the  tabret,  and  the  flute, 
The  Veda  chanted  soft  and  low, 
The  ringing  of  the  archer's  bow  ; 
With  bands  of  godlike  heroes  skilled 
In  every  warlike  weapon,  filled, 
And  kept  by  warriors  from  the  foe, 
As  Nagas  guard  their  home  below. a 
There  wisest  Brahmans  evermore 

The  flame  of  worship  feed, 
And  versed  in  all  the  Vedas'  lore, 

Their  lives  of  virtue  lead. 
Truthful  and  pure,  they  freely  give  ; 

They  keep  each  sense  controlled, 
And  in  their  holy  fervour  live 

Like  the  great  saints  of  old. 

CANTO  VI. 


THE  KING. 

There  reigned  a  king  of  name  revered, 
To  country  and  to  town  endeared, 
Great  Dasaratha,  good  and  sage. 
Well  read  in  Scripture's  holy  page  : 


1  The  Sataglmi  i.  e.  centicide,  or  slayer 
of  a  hundred,  is  generally  supposed  to  be 
a  sort  of  fire-arms,  or  the  ancient  Indian 
rocket ;  but  it  is  also  described  as  a  stone 
set  round  with  iron  spikes. 

2  The  Nagas  (serpents)  are  demigods 
with  a  human  face   and  serpent   body, 
They  inhabit  Patala  or  the  regions  under 
the    earth.     Bhogavati    is    the   name  of 
their  capital  city.    Serpents  are  still  wor- 
shipped in  India.    See  Fergusson's  Tree 
and  Serpent  Worship. 


Cento  VI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


13 


Upon  his  kingdom's  weal  intent, 
Mighty  and  brave  and  provident ; 
The  pride  of  old  Ikshvaku's  seed 
For  lofty  thought  and  righteous  deed. 
Peer  01  the  saints,  for  virtues  famed, 
For  foes  subdued  arid  passions  tamed  ; 
A  rival  in  his  wealth  untold 
Of  Indra  and  the  Lord  of  Gold. 
Like  Marm  first  of  kings,  he  reigned. 
And  worthily  his  state  maintained. 
For  firm  and  just  and  ever  true 
Love,  duty,  gain  he  kept  in  view, 
And  ruled  his  city  rich  and  free, 
Like  Indra's  Amaravati. 
And  worthy  of  so  fair  a  place 
There  dwelt  a  just  and  happy  race 

With  troops  of  children  blest. 
Each  man  contented  sought  no  more, 
Nor  longed  with  envy  for  the  store 

By  richer  friends  possessed. 
For  poverty  was  there  unknown, 
And  each  man  counted  as  his  own 

Kine,  steeds,  and  gold,  and  grain. 
All  dressed  in  raiment  bright  and  clean, 
And  every  townsman  might  be  seen 

With  earrings,  wreath,  or  chain. 
None  deigned  to  feed  on  broken  fare, 
And  none  was  false  or  stingy  there. 
A  piece  of  gold,  the  smallest  pay, 
Was  earned  by  labour  for  a  day. 
On  every  arm  were  bracelets  worn, 
And  none  was  faithless  or  forsworn, 

A  braggart  or  unkind. 
None  lived  upon  another's  wealth, 
None  pined  with  dread  or  broken  health, 

Or  dark  disease  of  mind. 
High -so  uled  were  all.  The  slanderous  word, 
The  boastful  lie,  were  never  heard. 
Each  man  was  constant  to  his  vows, 
And  lived  devoted  to  his  spouse. 
No  other  love  his  fancy  knew, 
And  she  was  tender,  kind,  and  true. 
Her  dames  were  fair  of  form  and  face, 
With  charm  of  wit  and  gentle  grace, 
With  modest  raiment  simply  neat, 
And  winning  manners  soft  and  sweet. 
The  twice-born  sages,  whose  delight 
Was  Scripture's  page  and  holy  rite, 
Their  calm  and  settled  course  pursued, 
Nor  sought  the  menial  multitude. 
In  many  a  Scripture  each  was  versed, 
And  each  the  flame  of  worship  nursed, 

And  gave  with  lavish  hand. 
Each  paid  to  Heaven  the  offerings  due, 
And  none  was  godless  or  untrue 

In  all  that  holy  band. 
To  Brahmans,  as  the  laws  ordain, 
The  Warrior  caste  were  ever  fain 

The  reverence  due  to  pay  ; 
And  these  the  Vaisyas'  peaceful  crowd, 
Who  trade  and  toil  for  gain,  were  proud 


To  honour  and  obey  : 
And  all  were  by  the  ^udras1  served, 
Who  never  from  their  duty  swerved, 
Their  proper  worship  all  addressed 
To  Brahman,  spirits,  God,  and  guest. 
Pure  and  unrnixt  their  rites  remained, 
Their  race's  honour  ne'er  was  stained.2 
Cheered  by  his  grandsons,  sons,  and  wife, 
Each  passed  a  1  ong  and  happy  life. 
Thus  was  that  famous  city  held 
By  one  who  all  his  race  excelled, 

Blest  in  his  gentle  reign, 
As  the  whole  land  aforetime  swayed 
By  Manu,  prince  of  men,  obeyed 

Her  king  from  main  to  main. 
And  heroes  kept  her,  strong  and  brave, 
As  lions  guard  their  mountain  cave  : 
Fierce  as  devouring  flame  they  burned, 
Arid  fought  till  death,  but  never  turned, 
Horses  had  she  of  noblest  breed, 
Like  Indra's  for  their  form  and  speed, 
From  Vahli's3  hills  and  Sindhu's*  sand, 
Vanayu5  and  Kamboja's  land.6 


1  The  fourth  and  lowest    pure  caste» 
whose  duty  was  to  serve  the  three  first 
classes. 

2  By  forbidden  marriages  between  per- 
sons of  different  castes, 

3  Vahli  or   Vahlika  is    Bactriana  ;    its 
name  is  preserved  in  the  modern  Balkh. 

4  The   Sanskrit   word    Sindhu  is  in  the 
singular  the  name  of  the  river  Indus,   in 
the  plural  of  the  people  and  territories  on 
its  banks.    The  name  appears  as  Hidhu 
in  the  cuneiform  inscription  of  Darius  son 
of   Hystaspes,  in   which  the  nations  tri- 
butary to  that  king  are  enumerated. 

The  Hebrew  form  is  Hodda  (Esther,  1. 1.) 
In  Zend  it  appears  as  Hencln  in  a  some- 
what wider  sense.  With  the  Persians  later 
the  signification  of  Hind  seems  to  have 
co-extended  with  their  increasing  acquain- 
tance with  the  country.  The  weak  Ionic 
dialect  omitted  the  Persian  h,  and  we 
find  in  Hecateeus  and  Herodotus  "I ySoc 
and  i]  'IvSudf.  In  this  form  the  Romans 
received  the  names  and  transmitted  them 
to  us.  The  Arabian  geographers  in  their 
ignorance  that  Hind  and  Sind  are  two 
forms  of  the  same  word  have  made  of  them 
two  brothers  and  traced  their  descent 
from  Noah.  See  Lassen's  Indische  Alter  - 
thumskunde  Vol.  I.  pp.  2,  3. 

&  The  situation  of  Vanayu  is  not  exact- 
ly determined :  it  seems  to  have  lain  to  the 
north-west  of  India. 

6  Kara  bo  j  a  was  probably  still  further 
to  the  north- west,  Lasseii  thinks  that  the 


u 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool  I 


Her  noble  elephants  had  strayed 
Through  Vindhyan  and  Himalayan  shade, 
Gigantic  in  their  bulk  and  height, 
Yet  gentle  in  their  matchless  might. 
They  rivalled  well  the  world-spread  fame 
Of  tiie  great  stock  from  which  they  came, 

Of  Vaman,  vast  of  size, 
Of  Mahapadma's  glorious  line, 
Thine,  Anjan,  and,  Airavat,  thine,1 

Upholders  of  the  slues. 
With  those,  enrolled  in  fourfold  class, 
Who  all  their  mighty  kin  surpass, 

Whom  men  Matangas  name, 
And  Mrigas  spotted  black  and  white, 
And  hhadras  of  unwearied  might, 
And  Mandras  hard  to  tame.2 
Thus,  worthy  of  the  name  she  bore,3 
Ayodhya  for  a  league  or  more 

Cast  a  bright  glory  round, 
Where  Dasaratba  wise  and  great 
Governed  his  fair  ancestral  state, 

With  every  virtue  crowned. 
Like  Indra  in  the  skies  he  reigned 
In  that  good  town  whose  wall  contained 

High  domes  and  turrets  proud, 
With  gates  and  arcs  of  triumph  decked, 
And  sturdy  barriers  to  protect 

Her  gay  and  countless  crowd. 

CANTO  VII. 


THE  MINISTERS. 

Two  sages,  holy  saints,  had  he, 
His  ministers  and  priests  to  be  : 
Vasishtha,  faithful  to  advise, 
And  Vamadeva,  Scripture-wise. 


name  is  etymolpgically  connected  with 
Cambyses  which  in  the  cuneiform  inscrip- 
tion of  Behistun  is  written  Ka(m)bujia. 

1  The  elephants  of  Indra  and  other 
deities  who  preside  over  the  four  points 
of  the  compass. 

*  *  There  are  four  kinds  of  elephants. 
1  Bkaddar.  It  is  well  proportioned,  has 
an  erect  head,  a  broad  chest,  large  ears,  a 
long  tail,  and  is  bold  and  can  bear  fati- 
gue. 2  Mfind.  It  is  black,  has  yellow 
eyes,  a  uniformly  sized  body,  and  is  wild 
and  ungovernable.  3  Mirg.  It  has  a 
whitish  skin,  with  black  spots.  4  Mir. 
It  has  a  small  head,  and  oheys  readily. 
It  gets  frightened  when  it  thunders.' 
Aiti-i-Alibari,  Translated  by  H.  Bloch- 
mann,  Ain  41,  The  Imperial  Elephant 
Stables. 

3  Ayodhyd  means  not  to  be  fought 
against, 


Kight  other  lords  around  him  stood, 
All  skilled  to  counsel,  wise  and  good  : 
Jayanta,  Vijay,  Dhrishti  bold 
In  right,  affairs  of  war  controlled  : 
Siddharth  and  Arthasadhak  true 
Watched  o'er  expense  and  revenue, 
And  Dharmapal  and  wise  Asok 
Of  right  and  law  and  justice*  spoke. 
With  these  the  sage  Sumantra,  skilled 
To  urge  the  car,  high  station  filled. 

All  these  in  knowledge  duly  trained 
Each  passion  and  each  sense  restrained  : 
With  modest  manners,  nobly  bred 
Each  plan  and  nod  and  look  they  read, 
Upon  their  neighbours'  good  intent, 
Mo»t  active  and  benevolent : 
As  sit  the  Vasus1  round  their  king, 
They  sate  around  him  counselling. 
They  ne'er  in  virtue's  loftier  pride 
Another's  lowly  gifts  decried. 
In  fair  and  sremly  garb  arrayed, 
No  weak  uncertain  plans  they  made. 
Well  skilled  in  business,  fair  and  just, 
They  gained  the  people's  love  and  trust, 
And  thus  without  oppression  stored 
The  swelling  treasury  of  their  lord. 
-Hound  in  sweet  friendship  each  to  each, 
They  spoke  kind  thoughts  in  gentle  speech. 
They  looked  alike  with  equal  eye 
On  every  caste,  on  low  and  high. 
Devoted  to  their  king,  they  sought, 
Ere  his  tongue  spoke,  to  learn  his  thought, 
And  knew,  as  each  occasion  rose, 
To  hide  their  counsel  or  disclose. 
In  foreign  lands  or  in  their  own 
Whatever  passed,  to  them  was  known. 
By  secret  spies  they  timely  knew 
What  men  were  doing  or  would  do. 
Skilled  in  the  gr:unds  of  war  and  peace 
They  saw  the  monarch's  state  increase, 
Watching  his  weal  with  conquering  eye 
That  never  let  occasion  by, 
While  nature  lent  her  aid  to  bless 
Their  labours  with  unbought  success. 
Never  for  anger,  lust,  or  gain, 
Would  they  their  lips  with  falsehood  stain. 
Inclined  to  mercy  they  could  scan 
The  weakness  and  the  strength  of  man. 
They  fairly  judged  both  high  and  low, 
And  ne'er  would  wrong  a  guiltless  foe  ; 
Yet  if  a  fault  were  proved,  each  one 
Would  punish  e'en  his  own  dear  son. 
But  there  and  in  the  kingdom's  bound 
No  thief  or  man  impure  was  found  : 
None  of  loose  life  or  evil  fame, 
No  temper  of  another's  dame. 
Contented  with  their  lot  each  caste 

1  Attendants  of  Indra,  eight  Gods  whose 
names  signify  fire,  light  and  its  pheno- 
mena, 


Canto  VIII. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Calm  days  in  blissful  quiet  passed  ; 
And,  all  in  fitting  tasks  employed, 
Country  and  town  deep  rest  enjoyed, 
With  these  wise  lords  around  his  throne 

The  monarch  justly  reigned, 
And  making  every  heart  his  own 

The  love  of  all  rnen  gained. 
With  trusty  agents,  as  beseems, 

Each  distant  realm  he  scanned, 
As  the  sun  visits  with  his  beams 

Each  corner  of  the  land. 
Ne'er  would  he  on  a  mightier  foe 

With  hostile  troops  advance, 
Nor  at  an  equal  strike  a  blow 

In  war's  delusive  chance. 
These  lords  in  council  bore  their  part 
With  ready  brain  and  faithful  heart, 
With  skill  and  knowledge,  sense  and  tact, 
Good  to  advise  and  bold  to  act. 
And  high  and  endless  fame  he  won 

With  these  to  guide  his  schemes, 
As,  risen  in  his  might,  the  sun 

Wins  glory  with  his  beams. 

CANTO  VIII. 


SUMANTRA'S  SPEECH. 

But  splendid,  just,  and  great  of  mind, 
The  childless  king  for  offspring  pined. 
No  son  had  he  his  name  to  grace, 
Transmitter  of  his  royal  race. 
Long  had  his  anxious  bosom  wrought, 
And  as  he  pondered  rose  the  thought : 
'  A  votive  steed  'twere  good  to  slay, 
So  might  a  son  the  gift  repay.' 
Before  his  lords  his  plan  he  laid, 
And  bade  them  with  their  wisdom  aid : 
Then  with  these  words  Sumantra,  best 
Of  royal  counsellors,  addressed : 
*  Hither,  Vasishtha  at  their  head, 
Let  all  my  priestly  guides  be  led.' 
To  him  Sumantra  made  reply : 
'  Hear,  Sire,  a  tale  of  days  gone  by. 
To  many  a  sage  in  time  of  old, 
Sanatkumar,  the  saint,  foretold 
How  from  thine  ancient  line,  O  King, 
A  son,  when  years  came  round,  should 

spring. 

'  Here  dwells,' '  twas  thus  the  seer  began, 
'  Of  Kasyap's1  race,  a  holy  man, 
Vibhandak  named  :  to  him  shall  spring 
A  son, 'the  famous  Rishyasring. 
Bred  with  the  deer  that  round  him  roam, 
The  wood  shall  be  that  hermit's  home. 

1  Kasyap  was  a  grandson  of  the  God 
Brahma.  He  is  supposed  to  have  given 
his  name  to  Kashmir =Kasyapa-mira, 
Kasyap's  Lake. 


To  him  no  mortal  shall  be  known 
Except  his  holy  sire  alone. 
Still  by  those  laws  shall  he  abide 
Which  lives  of  youthful  Brahmans  guide, 
Obedient  to  the  strictest  rule 
That  forms  the  young  ascetic's  school : 
And  all  the  wondering  world  shall  hear 
Of  his  stern  life  and  penance  drear ; 
His  care  to  nurse  the  holy  fire 
And  do  the  bidding  of  his  sire. 
Then,  seated  on  the  Angas'1  throne, 
Shall  Lomapad  to  fame  be  known. 
But  folly  wrought  by  that  great  king 
A  plague  upon  the  land  shall  bring  ; 
No  rain  for  many  a  year  shall  fall 
And  grievous  drought  shall  ruin  all. 
The  troubled  king  with  many  a  prayer 
Shall  bid  the  priests  some  cure  declare : 
*  The  lore  of  Heaven  'tis  yours  to  know, 
Nor  are  ye  blind  to  things  below : 
Declare,  O  holy  men,  the  way 
This  plague  to  expiate  and  stay.' 
Those  best  of  Brahmans  shall  reply : 
'  By  every  art,  O  Monarch,  try 
Hither  to  bring  Vibhandak's  child, 
Persuaded,  captured,  or  beguiled. 
And  when  the  boy  is  hither  led 
To  him  thy  daughter  duly  wed.' 

But  how  to  bring  that  wondrous  boy 
His  troubled  thoughts  will  long  employ, 
And  hopeless  to  achieve  the  task 
He  counsel  of  his  lords  will  ask, 
And  bid  his  priests  and  servants  bring 
With  honour  saintly  Rishyasring. 
But  when  they  hear  the  monarch's  speech, 
All  these  their  master  will  beseech, 
With  trembling  hearts  and  looks  of  woe, 
To  spare  them,  for  they  fear  to  go. 
And  many  a  plan  will  they  declare 

And  crafty  plots  will  frame, 
And  promise  fair  to  show  him  there, 

Unforced,  with  none  to  blame. 
On  every  word  his  lords  shall  say, 

The  king  will  meditate, 
And  on  the  third  returning  day 

Recall  them  to  debate. 
Then  this  shall  be  the  plan  agreed, 

That  damsels  shall  be  sent 
Attired  in  holy  hermits'  weed, 

And  skilled  in  blandishment, 
That  they  the  hermit  may  beguile 
With  every  art  and  amorous  wile 


1  The  people  of  Anga.  'Anga  is  said  in 
the  lexicons  to  be  Bengal;  but  here  certainly 
another  region  is  intended  situated  at  the 
confluence  of  the  Sarju  with  the  Ganges, 
and  not  far  distant  from  Dasaratha's  do- 
minions.' GORRESIO.  It  comprised  part  of 
Behar  and  Bhagulpur. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  I. 


Whose  use  they  know  so  well, 
And  by  their  witcheries  seduce 
The  unsuspecting  young  recluse 

To  live  his  father's  cell. 
Then  when  the  boy  with  willing  feet 
Shall  wander  from  his  calm  retreat 

And  in  that  city  stand, 
The  troubles  of  the  king  shall  end, 
And  streams  of  blessed  rain  descend 

Upon  the  thirsty  land. 
Thus  shall  the  holy  Rishyasring 
To  Lomapad,  the  mighty  king, 

By  wedlock  be  allied  ; 
For  »3anta,  fairest  of  the  fair, 
In  mind  and  grace  beyond  compare, 

Shall  be  his  royal  bride. 
He,  at  the  Offering  of  the  Steed, 
The  flames  with  holy  oil  shall  feed, 
And  for  King  Dasaratha  gain 
Sons  whom  his  prayers  have  begged  in 
vain.' 

*  I  have  repeated,  Sire,  thus  far, 
The  words  of  old  Sanatkumar, 
In  order  as  he  spoke  them  then 
Amid  the  crowd  of  holy  men.' 

Then  Dasaratha  cried  with  joy, 

*  Say  how  they  brought  the  hermit  boy.' 


CANTO  IX. 


RISHYASRING. 

The  wise  Sumantra,  thus  addressed, 

Unfolded  at  the  king's  behest 

The  plan  the  lords  in  council  laid 

To  draw  the  hermit  from  the  shade  : 

4  The  priest,  amid  the  lordly  crowd, 

To  Lomapad  thus  spoke  aloud  : 

'  Hear,  King,  the  plot  our  thoughts  have 

framed, 

A  harmless  trick  by  all  unblamed. 
Far  from  the  world  that  hermit's  child 
Lives  lonely  in  the  distant  wild  : 
A  stranger  to  the  joys  of  sense, 
His  bliss  is  pain  and  abstinence  ; 
And  all  unknown  are  women  yet 
To  him,  a  holy  anchoret. 
The  gentle  passions  we  will  wake 
That  with  resistless  influence  shake 

The  hearts  of  men  ;  and  he 
Drawn  by  enchantment  strong  and  sweet 
Shall  follow  from  his  lone  retreat, 

And  come  and  visit  thee. 
Let  ships  be  formed  with  utmost  care 
That  artificial  trees  may  bear, 

And  sweet  fruit  deftly  made ; 
Let  goodly  raiment,  rich  and  rare, 
And  flowers,  and  many  a  bird  be  there 

Beneath  the  leafy  shade, 


Upon  the  ships  thus  decked  a  band 
Of  young  ana  lovely  girls  shall  stand, 
Rich  in  each  charm  that  wakes  desire, 
And  eyes  that  burn  with  amorous  tire  ; 
Well  skilled  to  sing,  and  play,  and  dance, 
And  ply  their  trade  with  smile  and  glance. 
Let  these,  attired  in  hermits'  dress, 
Betake  them  to  the  wilderness, 
And  bring  the  boy  of  life  austere 
A  voluntary  captive  here.' 

He  endea  ;  and  the  king  agreed, 

By  the  priest's  counsel  won. 
And  all  the  ministers  took  heed 

To  see  his  bidding  done. 
In  ships  with  wondrous  art  prepared 
Away  the  lovely  women  fared, 
And  soon  beneath  the  shade  they  stood 
Of  the  wild,  lonely,  dreary  wood. 
And  there  the  leafy  cot  they  found 

Where  dwelt  the  devotee, 
And  looked  with  eager  eyes  around 

The  hermit's  son  to  see. 
Still,  of  Vibhandak  sore  afraid, 
They  hid  behind  the  creepers'  shade. 
But  when  by  careful  watch  they  knew 
The  elder  saint  was  far  from  view, 
With  bolder  steps  they  ventured  nigh 
To  catch  the  youthful  hermit's  eye. 
Then  all  the  damsels,  blithe  and  gay, 
At  various  games  began  to  play. 
They  tossed  the  flying  ball  about 
With  dance  and  song  and  merry  shout, 
And  moved,  their  scented  tresses  bound 
With  wreaths,  in  mazy  motion  round. 
Some  girls  as  if  by  love  possessed, 
Sank  to  the  earth  in  feigned  unrest, 
Up  starting  quickly  to  pursue 
Their  intermitted  game  anew. 
It  was  a  lovely  sight  to  see 

Those  fair  ones,  as  they  played, 
While  fragrant  robes  were  floating  free, 
And  bracelets  clashing  in  their  glee 

A  pleasant  tinkling  made. 
The  anklet's  chime,  the  Roll's1  cry 

With  music  filled  the  place 
A  s  'twere  some  city  in  the  sky 
Which  heavenly  minstrels  grace. 
With  each  voluptuous  art  they  strove 
To  win  the  tenant  of  the  grove, 
And  with  their  graceful  forms  inspire 
His  modest  soul  with  soft  desire. 
With  arch  of  brow,  with  beck  and  smile, 
With  every  passion-waking  wile 


1  The  Roilori0&i20(Ciioulu8  Indicus)as 
the  harbinger  of  spring  and  love  is  a 
universal  favourite  with  Indian  poets.  His 
voice  when  first  heard  in  a  glorious  spring 
morning  is  not  unpleasant,  but  becomes 
in  the  hot  season  intolerably  wearisome 
to  European  ears, 


Cunto    IX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Of  glance  and  lotns  hand, 
With  all  enticements  that  excite 
The  longing  for  unknown  delight 

Which  boys  in  vain  withstand. 
Forth  came  the  hermit's  son  to  view 
The  wondrous  sight  to  him  so  new, 

And  gazed  in  rapt  surprise, 
For  from  his  natal  hour  till  then 
On  woman  or  the  sons  of  men 

He  ne'er  had  cast  his  eyes. 
He  saw  them  with  their  waists  so  slim, 
With  fairest  shape  and  faultless  limb, 
In  variegated  robes  arrayed, 
And  sweetly  singing  as  they  played. 
Near  and  more  near  the  hermit  drew, 

And  watched  them  at  their  game, 
And  stronger  still  the  impulse  grew 

To  question  whence  they  came. 
They  marked  the  young  ascetic  gaze 
With  curious  eye  and  wild  amaze, 
And  sweet  the  long-eyed  damsels  sang, 
And  shrill  their  merry  laughter  rang. 
Then  came  they  nearer  to  his  side, 
And  languishing  with  passion  cried  : 
*  Whose  son,  O  youth,  and  who  art  thou, 
Come  suddenly  to  join  us  now  ? 
And  why  dost  thou  all  lonely  dwell 
In  the  wild  wood  ?  We  pray  thee,  tell, 
We  wish  to  know  thee,  gentle  youth  ; 
Come,  tell  us,  if  thou  wilt,  the  truth.' 

He  gazed  upon  that  sight  he  ne'er 
Had  seen  before,  of  girls  so  fair, 
And  out  of  love  a  longing  rose 
His  sire  and  lineage  to  disclose  : 
'  My  father,'  thus  he  made  reply, 
'  Is  Kas  yap's  son,  a  saint  most  high, 
Vibhaudak  styled  ;  from  him  I  came, 
And  Rishyasring  he  calls  my  name. 
Our  hermit  cot  is  near  this  place  : 
Come  thither,  0  ye  fair  of  face  ; 
There  be  it  mine,  with  honour  due, 
Ye  gentle  youths,  to  welcome  you.' 

They  heard  his  speech,  and  gave  consent, 
And  gladly  to  his  cottage  went, 
Vibhandak's  son  received  them  well 
Beneath  the  shelter  of  his  cell 
With  guest-gift,  water  for  their  feet, 
And  woodland  fruit  and  roots  to  eat, 
They  smiled,  and  spoke  sweet  words  like 

these, 

Delighted  with  his  courtesies  : 
'  We  too  have  goodly  fruit  in  store, 
Grown  on  the  trees  that  shade  our  door  ; 
Come,  if  thou  wilt,  kind  Hermit,  haste 
The  produce  of  our  grove  to  taste  ; 
And  let,  0  good  Ascetic,  first 
This  holy  water  quench  thy  thirst.' 
They  spoke,  and  gave  him  comfits  sweet 
Prepared  ripe  fruits  to  counterfeit ; 
And  many  a  dainty  cate  beside 
And  luscious  mead  their  stores  supplied. 


The  seeming  fruits,  in  taste  and  look, 

The  unsuspecting  hermit  took, 

For,  strange  to  him,  their  form  beguiled 

The  dweller  in  the  lonely  wild, 

Then  round  his  neck  fair  arms  were  flun^ 

And  there  the  laughing  damsels  clung, 

And  pressing  nearer  and  more  near 

With  sweet  lips  whispered  at  his  ear  ; 

While  rounded  limb  and  swelling  breast 

The  youthful  hermit  softly  pressed. 

The  pleasing  charm  of  that  strange  bowl. 

The  touch  of  a  tender  limb, 
Over  his  yielding  spirit  stole 

And  sweetly  vanquished  him. 
But  vows,  they  said,  must  now  be  paid  ; 

They  bade  the  boy  farewell, 
And,  of  the  aged  saint  afraid, 

Prepared  to  leave  the  dell. 
With  ready  guile  they  told  him  where 

Their  hermit  dwelling  lay  ; 
Then,  lest  the  sire  should  find  them  then 

Sped  by  wild  paths  away. 
They  fled  and  left  him  there  alone 

By  longing  love  possessed  ; 
And  with  a  heart  no  more  his  own 

He  roamed  about  distressed. 
The  aged  saint  came  home,  to  find 

The  hermit  boy  distraught, 
Revolving  in  his  troubled  mind 

One  solitary  thought. 
'Why  dost  thou  riot,  my  son,'  he  cried, 

*  Thy  due  obeisance  pay  ? 
Why  do  I  see  thee  in  the  tide 

Of  whelming  thought  to-day  ? 
A  devotee  should  never  wear 

A  mien  so  sad  and  strange. 
Come,  quickly,  dearest  child,  declare 

The  reason' of  the  change.' 
And  Rishyasring,  when  questioned  thus, 

Made  answer  in  this  wise  : 
'  0  sire,  there  came  to  visit  us 

Some  men  with  lovely  eyes, 
About  my  neck  soft  arms  they  wound 

And  kept  me  tightly  held 
To  tender  breasts  so  soft  and  round, 

That  strangely  heaved  and  swelled. 
They  sing  more  sweetly  as  they  dance 

Than  e'er  I  heard  till  now, 
And  play  with  many  a  sidelong  glance 

And  arching  of  the  brow.' 
'  My  son,'  said  he,  'thus  giants  roam 

Where  holy  hermits  are, 
And  wander  round  their  peaceful  home 

Their  rites  austere  to  mar. 
I  charge  thee,  thou  must  never  lay 

Thy  trust  in  them,  dear  boy  : 
They  seek  thee  only  to  betray, 

And  woo  but  to  destroy.' 
Thus  having  warned  him  of  his  foes 

That  night  at  home  he  spent, 
And  when  the  morrow's  sun  arose 


18 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  L 


Forth  to  the  forest  went. 

But  Rishyasring  with  eager  pace 
Sped  forth  and  hurried  to  the  place 
Where  he  those  visitants  had  seen 
Of  daintly  waist  and  charming  mien. 
When  from  afar  they  saw  the  son 
Of  Saint  Vibhandak  toward  them  run, 
To  meet  the  hermit  boy  they  hied, 
And  hailed  him  with  a  smile,  and  cried ; 
*  0  come,  we  pray,  dear  lord,  behold 
Our  lovely  home  of  which  we  toJd  : 
Due  honour  there  to  thee  we'll  pay, 
And  speed  thee  on  thy  homeward  way.' 
Pleased  with  the  gracious  words  they  said 
He  followed  where  the  damsels  led. 
As  with  his  guides  his  steps  he  bent, 

That  Brahman  high  of  worth, 
A  flood  of  rain  from  heaven  was  sent 

That  gladdened  all  the  earth. 

Vibhandak  took  his  homeward  road, 
And  wearied  by  the  heavy  load 
Of  roots  and  woodland  fruit  he  bore 
Entered  at  last  his  cottage  door. 
Fain  for  his  son  he  looked  around, 
But  desolate  the  cell  he  found. 
He  stayed  not  then  to  bathe  his  feet, 
Though  fainting  with  the  toil  and  heat, 
But  hurried  forth  and  roamed  about 
Calling  the  boy  with  cry  and  shout. 
He  searched  the  wood,  but  all  in  vain  ; 
Nor  tidings  of  his  son  could  gain. 

One  day  beyond  the  forest's  bound 
The  wandering  saint  a  village  found, 
And  asked  the  swains  and  neatherds  there 
Who  owned  the  land  so  rich  and  fair, 
With  all  the  hamlets  of  the  plain, 
And  herds  of  kine  and  fields  of  grain. 
They  listened  to  the  hermit's  words, 
And  all  the  guardians  of  the  herds, 
With  suppliant  hands  together  pressed, 
This  answer  to  the  saint  addressed  : 
The  Angas'  lord  who  bears  the  name 
Of  Lomapad,  renowned  by  fame, 
Bestowed  these  hamlets  with  their  kine 
And  all  their  riches,  as  a  sign 
Of  grace,  on  Rishyasring  ;  and  he 
Vibhandak's  son  is  said  to  be.' 
The  hermit  with  exulting  breast 
The  mighty  will  of  fate  confessed, 
By  meditation's  eye  discerned  ; 
And  cheerful  to  his  home  returned. 

A  stately  ship,  at  early  morn, 
The  hermit's  son  away  had  borne. 
Loud  roared  the  clouds,  as  on  he  sped, 
The  sky  grew  blacker  overhead  ; 
Till,  as  he  reached  the  royal  town, 
A  mighty  flood  of  rain  came  down. 
By  the  great  rain  the  monarch's  mind 
The  coming  of  his  guest  divined. 
To  meet  the  honoured  youth  he  went, 
And  low  to  earth  his  head  he  bent. 


With  his  own  priest  to  lead  the  train, 
He  gave  the  gift  high  guests  obtain. 
And  sought,  with  all  who  dwelt  within 
The  city  walls,  his  grace  to  win. 
He  fed  him  with  the  daintiest  fare, 
He  served  him  with  unceasing  care, 
And  ministered  with  anxious  eyes 
Lest  anger  in  his  breast  should  rise  ; 
And  gave  to  be  the  Brahman's  bride 
His  own  fair  daughter,  lot  us- eyed. 

Thus  loved  and  honoured  by  the  king, 
The  glorious  Brahman  Rishyasring 
Passed  in  that  royal  town  his  life 
With  Santa  his  beloved  wife.' 

CANTO  X. 


RISHYASRING  INVITED. 

*  Again,  0  best  of  kings,  give  ear  : 
My  saving  words  attentive  hear, 
And  listen  to  the  tale  of  old 

By  that  illustrious  Brahman  told. 

*  Of  famed  Ikshvaku's  line  shall  spring 
('Twas  thus  he  spoke)  a  pious  king, 
Named  Dasaratha,  good  and  great, 
True  to  his  word  and  fortunate. 

He  with  the  Angas'  mighty  lord 
Shall  ever  live  in  sweet  accord, 
And  his  a  daughter  fair  shall  be, 
Santa  of  happy  destiny. 
But  Lomapad,  the  Angas'  chief, 
Still  pining  in  his  childless  grief, 
To  Dasaratha  thus  shall  say  : 
*Give  me  thy  daughter,  friend,  I  pray, 
Thy  Santa  of  the  tranquil  mind, 
The  noblest  one  of  womankind.' 

The  father,  swift  to  feel  for  woe, 
Shall  on  his  friend  his  child  bestow  ; 
And  he  shall  take  her  and  depart 
To  his  own  town  with  joyous  heart. 
The  maiden  home  in  triumph  led, 
To  Rishyasring  the  king  shall  wed. 
And  he  with  loving  joy  and  pride 
Shall  take  her  for  his  honoured  bride. 
And  Dasaratha  to  a  rite 
That  best  of  Brahmans  shall  invite 

With  supplicating  prayer, 
To  celebrate  the  sacrifice 
To  win  him  sons  and  Paradise,1 

That  he  will  fain  prepare. 


1  'Sons  and  Paradise  are  intimately 
connected  in  Indian  belief.  A  man  desires 
above  every  thing  to  have  a  son  to  perpe- 
tuate his  race,  and  to  assist  with  sacrifices 
and  funeral  rites  to  make  him  worthy  to 
obtain  a  lofty  seat  in  heaven  or  to  pre- 
serve tli at  which  he  has  already  obtained.' 
GOKRESIO. 


Canto  XL 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


From  him  the  lord  of  men  at  length 

The  boon  be  seeks  shall  gain, 
And  see  four  sons  of  boundless  strength 

His  royal  line  maintain.' 
'  Thus  did  the  godlike  saint  of  old 

The  will  of  fate  declare, 
And  all  that  sbould  befall  unfold 

Amid  the  sages  there. 
O  Prince  supreme  of  men,  go  thou, 

Consult  thy  holy  guide, 
And  win,  to  aid  thee  in  thy  vow, 

This  brahman  to  thy  side.' 
Sumantra's  counsel,  wise  and  good, 

King  Dasaratha  heard, 
Then  by  Vasishtha's  side  he  stood 
And  thus  with  him  conferred  : 

*  Sumantra  counsels  thus  :  do  thou 
My  priestly  guide,  the  plan  allow.' 

Vasishtha  gave  his  glad  consent, 
And  forth  the  happy  monarch  went 
With  lords  and  servants  on  the  road 
That  led  to  Rishyasring's  abode. 
Forests  and  rivers  duly  past, 
He  reached  the  distant  town  at  last 
Of  Lomapad  the  Angas'  king, 
And  entered  it  with  welcoming. 
On  through  the  crowded  streets  he  came, 
And,  radiant  as  the  kindled  flame, 
He  saw  within  the  monarch's  house 
The  hermit's  son  most  glorious. 
There  Lomapad,  with  joyful  breast, 

To  him  all  honour  paid, 
For  friendship  for  his  royal  guest 

His  faithful  bosom  swayed. 
Thus  entertained  with  utmost  care 
Seven  days,  or  eight,  he  tarried  there, 
And  then  that  best  men  thus  broke 
His  purpose  to  the  king,  and  spoke  ; 
«  0  King  of  men,  mine  ancient  friend, 

(Thus  Dasaratha  prayed) 
Thy  £anta  with  her  husband  send 

My  sacrifice  to  aid.' 
Said  he  who  ruled  the  Angas,  Yea, 

And  his  consent  was  won  : 
And  then  at  once  he  turned  away 

To  warn  the  hermit's  son. 
He  told  him  of  their  ties  beyond 
Their  old  affection's  faithful  bond  : 

*  This  king,'  he  said,  '  from  days  of  old 
A  well  beloved  friend  I  hold. 

To  me  this  pearl  of  dames  he  gave 

From  childless  woe  mine  age  to  save, 

The  daughter  whom  he  loved  so  much, 

Moved  by  compassion's  gentle  touch. 

In  him  thy  Santa's  father  see  : 

As  I  am  even  so  is  he. 

For  sons  the  childless  monarch  yearns  : 

To  thee  alone  for  help  he  turns. 

Go  thou,  the  sacred  rite  ordain 

To  win  the  sons  he  prays  to  gain  : 

Go,  with  thy  wife  thy  succour  lend, 


And  give  his  vows  a  blissful  end.' 

The  hermit's  son  with  quick  accord 
Obeyed  the  Angas'  mighty  lord, 
And  with  fair  Sant&  at  his  side 
To  Dasaratha's  city  hied. 
Each  king,  with  suppliant  hands  upheld, 

Gazed  on  the  other's  face  : 
And  then  by  mutual  love  impelled 

Met  in  a  close  embrace. 
Then  Dasaratha's  thoughtful  care, 

Before  he  parted  thence, 
Bade  trusty  servants  homeward  bear 

The  glad  intelligence  : 
*  Let  all  the  town  be  bright  and  gay, 

With  burning  incense  sweet ; 
Let  banners  wave,  and  water  lay 

The  dust  in  every  street.' 
Glad  were  the  citizens  to  learn 
The  tidings  of  their  lord's  return, 
And  through  the  city  every  man 
Obedienly  his  task  began. 
And  fair  and  bright  Ayodhya  showed, 
As  following  his  guest  he  rode 
Through  the  full  streets  where  shell  and 

drum 

Proclaimed  aloud  the  king  was  come. 
And  all  the  people  with  delight 

Kept  gazing  on  thei  r  king, 
Attended  by  that  youth  so  bright, 

The  glorious  Rishyasring. 
When  to  his  home  the  king  had  brought 

The  hermit's  saintly  son, 
He  deemed  that  all  his  task  was  wrought, 

And  all  he  prayed  for  won. 
And  lords  who  saw  that  stranger  dame 

!So  beautiful  to  view, 
Rejoiced  within  their  hearts,  and  came 

And  paid  her  honour  too. 
There  Rishyasring  passed  blissful  days. 
Graced  like*  the  king  with  love  and  praise. 
And  shone  in  glorious  light  with  her, 
Sweet  $anta,  for  his  minister, 
As  Brahma's  son  Vasishtha,  he 
Who  wedded  Saint  Arundhati.1 


CANTO  XI. 


THE  SACRIFICE  DECREED. 

The  Dewy  Season2  came  and  went  ; 

The  spring  returned  again  : 
Then  would  the  king,  with  mind  intent, 

His  sacrifice  ordain. 

i  One  of  the  Pleiades  and  generally  re- 
garded  as  the  model  of  wifely  excellence. 

*  The  Hindu  year  is  divided  into  six 
seasons  of  two  months  each,  spring,  sum- 
mer, rains,  autumn,  winter,  and  dews, 


20 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  /. 


He  came  to  Rishyasring,  and  bowed 

To  him  of  look  divine, 
And  bade  him  aid  his  offering  vowed 

For  heirs,  to  save  his  line. 
Nor  would  the  youth  his  aid  deny  : 

He  spake  the  monarch  fair, 
And  prayed  him  for  that  rite  so  high 

All  requisites  prepare. 
The  king  to  wise  Sumantra  cried 

Who  stood  aye  ready  near  ; 
*  Go  summon  quick  each  holy  guide, 

To  counsel  and  to  hear.' 
Obedient  to  his  lord's  behest 

Away  Sumantra  sped, 
And  brought  Vasishtha  and  the  rest, 

In  Scripture  deeply  read. 
Suyajna,  Vamadeva  came, 

Javali,  Kasyap's  son, 
And  old  Vasishtha,  dear  to  fame, 

Obedient  every  one. 
King  Dasaratha  met  them  there 

And  duly  honoured  each, 
And  spoke  in  pleasant  words  his  fair 

And  salutary  speech ; 
'  In  childless  longing  doomed  to  pine, 
No  happiness,  O  lords,  is  mine. 
So  have  I  for  this  cause  decreed 
To  slay  the  sacrificial  steed. 
Fain  would  I  pay  that  offering  high 
Wherein  the  horse  is  doomed  to  die, 
With  Rishyasring  his  aid  to  lend, 
And  with  your  glory  to  befriend.' 

With  loud  applause  each  holy  man 
Received  his  speech,  approved  the  plan, 
And,  by  the  wise  Vasishtha  led, 
Gave  praises  to  the  king,  and  said  : 
*The  sons  thou  cravest  shalt  thou  see, 
Of  fairest  glory,  born  to  thee, 
Whose  holy  feelings  bid  thee  take 
This  righteous  course  for  offspring's  sake.' 
Cheered  by  the  ready  praise  of  those 
Whose  aid  he  sought,  his  spirits  rose, 
And  thus  the  king  his  speech  renewed 
With  looks  of  joy  and  gratitude : 
<Let  what  the  coming  rites  require 
Be  ready  as  the  priests  desire, 
And  let  the  horse,  ordained  to  bleed, 
With  fitting  guard  and  priest,  be  freed, 
Yonder  on  Sarju's  northern  side 
The  sacrificial  ground  provide  ; 
And  let  the  saving  rites,  that  naught 
Ill-omened  may  occur,  be  wrought. 
The  offering  I  announce  to-day 
Each  lord  of  earth  may  claim  to  pay, 
Provided  that  his  care  can  guard 


1  It  was  essential  that  the  horse  should 
wander  free  for  a  year  before  immolation, 
as  a  sign  that  his  master's  paramount 
sovereignty  was  acknowledged  by 
neighbouring  princes, 


The  holy  rite  by  flaws  unmarred. 
For  wandering  fiends,  whose  watchful  spite 
Waits  eagerly  to  spoil  each  rite, 
Hunting  with  keenest  eye  detect 
The  slightest  slip,  the  least  neglect ; 
And  when  the  sacred  work  is  crossed 
The  workman  is  that  moment  lost. 
Let  preparation  due  be  made  : 

Your  powers  the  charge  can  meet : 
That  so  the  noble  rite  be  paid 

In  every  point  complete.' 
And  all  the  Brahmans  answered,  Yea, 

His  mandate  honouring, 
And  gladly  promised  to  obey 

The  order  of  the  king. 
They  cried  with  voices  raised  aloud  : 

*  Success  attend  thine  aim  !' 
Then  bade  farewell,  and  lowly  bowed, 

And  hastened  whence  they  came. 
King  Dasaratha  went  within, 

His  well  loved  wives  to  see  : 
And  said  :  *  Your  lustral  rites  begin, 

For  these  shall  prosper  me. 
A  glorious  offering  I  prepare 
That  precious  fruit  of  sons  may  bear.' 
Their  lily  faces  brightened  fast 

Those  pleasant  words  to  hear, 
As  lilies,  when  the  winter's  past, 
In  lovelier  hues  appear. 

CANTO  XII. 


THE  SACRIFICE  BEGUN. 

Again  the  spring  with  genial  heat 
Returning  made  the  year  complete. 
To  win  him  sons,  without  delay 
His  vow  the  king  resolved  to  pay : 
And  to  Vasishtha,  saintly  man, 
In  modest  words  this  speech  began  : 
'  Prepare  the  rite  with  all  things  fit 
As  is  ordained  in  Holy  Writ, 
And  keep  with  utmost  care  afar 
Whate'er  its  sacred  forms  might  mar. 
Thou  art,  my  lord,  my  trustiest  guide, 
Kind -hearted,  and  my  friend  beside  ; 
So  is  it  meet  thou  undertake 
This  heavy  task  for  duty's  sake.' 

Then  he,  of  twice-born  men  the  best, 
His  glad  assent  at  once  expressed  : 
'  Fain  will  I  do  whatever  may  be 
Desired,  O  honoured  King,  by  thee.' 
To  ancient  priests  he  spoke,  who,  trained 
In  holy  rites,  deep  skill  had  gained  : 
*  Here  guards  be  stationed,  good  and  sage, 
Religious  men  of  trusted  age. 
And  various  workmen  send  and  call, 
Who  frame  the  door  and  build  the  wall : 
With  men  of  every  art  and  trade, 
Who  read  the  stars  and  ply  the  spade, 


Canto  XII. 


THE  RA MAYAN. 


21 


And  mimes  and  minstrels  hither  bring, 
And  damsels  trained  to  dance  and  sing.' 

Then  to  the  learned  men  he  said, 
In  many  a  page  of  Scripture  read  : 
*  Be  yours  each  rite  performed  to  see 
According  to  the  king's  decree. 
And  stranger  Brahmans  quickly  call 
To  this  great  rite  that  welcomes  all. 
Pavilions  for  the  princes,  decked 
With  art  and  ornament,  erect, 
And  handsome  booths  by  thousands  made 
The  Brahman  visitors  to  shade, 
Arranged  in  order  side  by  side, 
With  meat  and  drink  and  all  supplied. 
And  ample  stables  we  shall  need 
For  many  an  elephant  and  steed  : 
And  chambers  where  the  men  may  lie, 
And  vast  apartments,  broad  and  high, 
Fit  to  receive  the  countless  bands 
Of  warriors  come  from  distant  lands. 
For  our  own  people  too  provide 
Sufficient  tents,  extended  wide, 
And  stores  of  meat  and  drink  prepare, 
And  all  that  can  be  needed  there. 
And  food  in  plenty  must  be  found 
For  guests  from  all  the  country  round. 
Of  various  viands  presents  make, 
For  honour,  not  for  pity's  sake, 
That  tit  regard  and  worship  be 
Paid  to  each  caste  in  due  degree. 
And  let  not  wish  or  wrath  excite 
Your  hearts  the  meanest  guest  to  slight ; 
But  still  observe  with  special  grace 
Those  who  obtain  the  foremost  place, 
Whether  for  happier  skill  in  art 
Or  bearing  .in  the  rite  their  part. 
Do  you,  1  pray,  with  friendly  mind 
Perform  the  task  to  you  assigned, 
And  work  the  rite,  as  bids  the  law, 
Without  omission,  slip,  or  flaw.' 

They  answered :  '  As  thpu  seest  fit 
So  will  we  do  and  naught  omit.' 
The  sage  Vasishtha  then  addressed 
Sumantra  called  at  his  behest : 
'  The  princes  of  the  earth  invite, 
And  famous  lords  who  guard  the  rite, 
Priest,  Warrior,  Merchant,  lowly  thrall, 
In  countless  thousands  summon  all. 
Where'er  their  home  be,  far  or  near, 
Gather  the  good  with  honour  here. 
And  Janak,  whose  imperial  sway 
The  men  of  Mithila1  obey, 
The  firm  of  vow,  the  dread  of  foes, 
Who  all  the  lore  of  Scripture  knows, 


1  Called  also  Videha,  later  Tirabhukti 
corrupted  into  the  modern  Tirhut,   a  pro 
vince  bounded  on  the  west  and  east  by  th( 
Gandaki  and  Kausiki  rivers,  on  the  south 
by  the  Ganges,  and  on  the  north  by  the 
skirts  of  the  Himalayas, 


Invite  him  here  with  honour  high, 
King  Dasaratha's  old  ally. 
And  Kasi's1  lord  of  gentle  speech, 
Who  finds  a  pleasant  word  for  each, 
In  length  of  days  our  monarch's  peer, 
Illustrious  king,  invite  him  here. 
The  father  of  our  ruler's  bride,  ^ 
Known  for  his  virtues  far  and  wide, 
The  king  whom  Kekaya's*  realms  obey, 
Him  with  his  son  invite,  I  pray. 
And  Lomapad  the  Angas'  king, 

Drue  to  his  vows  and  godlike,  bring. 

?or  be  thine  invitations  sent 

0  west  and  south  and  orient. 

_all  those  who  rule  Surashtra's3  land, 
Suvira  s4  realm  and  Sindhu's  strand, 
And  all  the  kings  of  earth  beside 
]n  friendship's  bonds  with  us  allied : 
[nvite  them  all  to  hasten  in 
With  retinue  and  kith  and  kin.' 

Vasishtha's  speech  without  delay 
Sumantra  bent  him  to  obey. 
And  sent  his  trusty  envoys  forth 
Eastward  and  westward,  south  and  north. 
Dbedient  to  the  saint's  request 
Himself  he  hurried  forth,  and  pressed 
Each  nobler  chief  and  lord  and  king 
To  hasten  to  the  gathering. 
Before  the  saint  Vasishtha  stood 
All  those  who  wrought  with  stone  and  wood, 
And  showed  the  work  which  every  one 
In  furtherance  of  the  rite  had  done, 
Rejoiced  their  ready  zeal  to  see, 
Thus  to  fhe  craftsmen  all  said  he: 
4 1  charge  ye,  masters,  see  to  this, 
That  there  be  nothing  done  amiss, 
And  this,  I  pray,  in  mind  be  borne, 
That  not  one  gift  ye  give  in  Scorn : 
Whenever  scorn  a  gift  attends 
Great  sin  is  his  who  thus  offends.' 

And  now  some  days  and  nights  had  past, 
And  kings  began  to  gather  fast, 
And  precious  gems  in  liberal  store 
As  gifts  to  Dasaratha  bore. 
Then  joy   thrilled    through  Vasishtha's 

breast 
As  thus  the  monarch  he  addressed : 

1  Obedient  to  thy  high  decree 

The  kings,  my  lord,  are  come  to  thee. 

1  The  celebrated  city  of  Benares.  See 
Dr.  Halls's  learned  and  exhaustive  Mono- 
graph in  the  Sacred  City  of  the  Hindus, 
by  the  Rev.  M.  A.  Sherring. 

* 2  Kekaya  is  supposed  to  have  been  in 
the  Panjab.  The  name  of  the  king  was 
Asvapati  (Lord  of  Horses),  father  of 
Dasaratha's  wife  Kaikeyi. 

3  Surat. 

4  Apparently  in  the  west  of  India  not 
far  from  the  Indus, 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


And  it  has  been  my  care  to  greet 
And  honour  all  with  reverence  meet. 
Thy  servants'  task  is  ended  quite, 
And  all  is  ready  for  the  rite, 
Come  fort'i  then  to  the  sacred  ground 
Where  all  in  order  will  be  found.' 
Then  Rishyasiing  confirmed  the  tale: 
Nor  did  their  words  to  move  him  fail. 
The  stars  propitious  influence  lent 
When  forth  the  world's  great  ruler  went, 

Then  by  the  sage  Vasishtha  led 
The  priest  began  to  speed 

Those  glorious  rites  wherein  is  shed 
The  lif  eblood  of  the  steed. 


CANTO  XIII. 


THE  SACRIFICE  FINISHED. 

The  circling  year  had  filled  its  course, 
And  back  was  brought  the  wandering  horse: 
Then  upon  Sarju's  northern  strand 
Began  the  rite  the  king  had  planned. 
With  Rishyasring  the  forms  to  guide, 
The  Brahmans  to  their  task  applied, 
At  that  great  offering  of  the  steed 
Their  lofty-minded  king  decreed. 
The  priests,  who  all  the  Scripture  knew, 
Performed  their  part  in  order  due, 
And  circled  round  in  solemn  train 
As  precepts  of  the  law  ordain. 
Pravargya  rites1  were  duly  sped: 
For  Upasads2  the  flames  were  fed. 
Then    from   the    plant5    the   juice   was 

squeezed, 
And  those  high  saints  with  minds  well 

pleased 

Performed  the  mystic  rites  begun 
With  bathing  ere  the  rise  of  sun. 
They  gave  the  portion  Indra's  claim, 


1  'The  Pravargya  ceremony  lasts  for 
three  days,  and  is  always  performed 
twice  a  day,  in  the  forenoon  and  after- 
noon. It  precedes  the  animal  and  Sonia 
sacrifices.  For  without  having  undergone 
it,  no  one  is  allowed  to  take  part  in  the 
solemn  Soma  feast  prepared  for  the  gods.' 
HAUG'S  Altareya,  Brahmanam.  Vol.  II. 
p.  41.  note  y.  v. 

*  Upasads.  'The  Gods  said,  Let  us 
perform  the  burnt-offerings  called  Upasads 
(I.  e.  besieging).  For  by  means  of  an 
Upasad,  i.  e.  besieging,  they  conquer  a 
large  (fortified)  town.' — Ibid.  p.  52. 

3  The  Soma  plant,  or  Asclepias  Acida. 
Its  fermented  juice  was  drunk  in  sacrifice 
by  the  priests  and  offered  to  the  Gods 
who  enjoyed  the  intoxicating  draught. 


And  hymned  the  King  whom  none  can 

blame. 

The  mid-day  bathing  followed  next, 
Observed  as  bids  the  holy  text. 
Then  the  good  priests  with  utmost  care, 
In  form  that  Scripture's  rules  declare, 
For  the  third  time  pure  water  shed 
On  high-souled  Dasaratha's  head. 
Then  Rishyasring  and  all  the  rest 
To  Indra  and  the  Gods  addressed 
Their  sweet-toned  hymn   of    praise  and 

prayer, 

And  called  them  in  the  rite  to  share. 
With  sweetest  song  and  hymn  entoned 
They  gave  the  Gods  in  heaven  enthroned, 
As  duty  bids,  the  gifts  they  claim, 
The  holy  oil  that  feeds  the  flame. 
And  many  an  offering  there  was  paid, 
And  not  one  slip  in  all  was  made. 
For  with  most  careful  heed  they  saw 
That  all  was  done  by  Veda  law. 
None,  all  those  days,  was  seen  oppressed 
By  hunger  or  by  toil  distressed. 
Why  speak  of  human  kind  ?  No  beast 
Was  there  that  lacked  an  ample  feast. 
For  there  was  store  for  all  who  came, 
For  orphan  child  and  lonely  dame  ; 
The  old  and  young  were  well  supplied, 
The  poor  and  hungry  satisfied. 
Throughout  the  day  ascetics  fed, 
And  those  who  roam  to  beg  their  bread: 
While  all  around  the  cry  was  still, 
<  Give  forth,  give  forth,'  and  «  Eat  you  fill/ 
'  Give  forth  with  liberal  hand  the  meal, 
And  various  robes  in  largess  deal.' 
Urged  by  these  cries  on  every  side 
Unweariedly  their  task  they  plied  : 
And  heaps  of  food  like  hills  in  size 
In  boundless  plenty  met  the  eyes  : 
And  lakes  of  sauce,  each  day  renewed, 
Refreshed  the  weary  multitude. 
And  strangers  there  from  distant  lands, 
And  women  folk  in  crowded  bands 
The  best  of  food  and  drink  obtained 
At  the  great  rite  the  king  ordained. 
Apart  from  all,  the  Brahmans  there, 
Thousands  on  thousands,  took  their  share 
Of  various  dainties  sweet  to  taste, 
On  plates  of  gold  and  silver  placed, 
All  ready  set,  as,  when  they  willed, 
The  twice-born  men  their  places  filled. 
And  servants  in  fair  garments  dressed 
Waited  upon  each  Brahman  guest. 
Of  cheerful  mind  and  mien  were  they, 
With  gold  and  jewelled  earrings  gay. 
The  best  of  Brahmans  praised  the  fare 
Of  countless  sorts,  of  flavour  rare  : 
And  thus  to  Kaghu's  son  they  cried  : 
'  We  bless  thee,  and  are  satisfied.' 
Between  the  rites  some  Brahmans  spent 
The  time  in.  learned  argument, 


Canto  XIII. 


THE  RAM'AYAN. 


23 


With  ready  flow  of  speech,  sedate, 
And  keen  to  vanquish  in  debate.1 

There  day  by  day  the  holy  train 
Performed  all  rites  as  rales  ordain. 
No  priest  in  all  that  host  was  found 
But  kept  the  vows  that  held  him  bound  : 
None,  but  the  holy  Vedas  knew, 
And  all  their  six-fold  science*  too. 
No  Brahman  there  was  found  unfit 
To  speak  with  eloquence  and  wit. 

And  now  the  appointed  time  came  near 
The  sacrificial  posts  to  rear. 
They  brought  them,  and  prepared  to  fix 
Of  Bel3  and  Khadir4  six  ana  six  ; 
Six,  made  of  the  Palasa5  tree, 
Of  Fig-wood  one,  apart  to  be  : 
Of  Sleshmat6  and  of  Devadar7 
One  column  each,  the  mightiest  far  : 
So  thick  the  two,  the  arms  of  man 
Their  ample  girth  would  fail  to  span. 
All  these  with  utmost  care  were  wrought 
By  hand  of  priests  in  Scripture  taught, 
And  all  with  gold  were  gilded  bright 
To  add  new  splendour  to  the  rite  : 


1  'Turn  in  casrimoniarum  intervallis 
Brachmanae  facundi,  sollertes,  crebros  ser- 
mones  de  rerum  causis  insbituebant,  alter 
alterum  vineendi  cupidi.  This  public  dis- 
putation in  the  assembly  of  Brahmans  on 
the  nature  of  things,  and  the  almost  fra- 
ternal connexion  between  theology  and 
philosophy  deserves  some  notice  ;  whereas 
the  priests  of  some  religions  are  generally 
but  little  inclined  to  show  favour  to  phi- 
losophers, nay,  sometimes  persecute  them 
with  the  most  rancorous  hatred,  as  we  are 
taught  both  by  history  and  experience... 
This  slvka  is  found  in  the  MSS.  of  dif- 
ferent recensions  of  the  Bamayan,  and  we 
have,  therefore,  the  most  trustworthy 
testimony  to  the  antiquity  of  philosophy 
among  the  Indians.'  SCHLEGEL. 

*  The  Angas  or  appendices  of  the  Vedas, 
pronunciation,  prosody,  grammar,  ritual, 
astronomy,  and  explanation  of  obscurities. 

3  In  Sanskrit  vilva,  the  JEyle  Marmelos. 
*  He  who  desires  food  and  wishes  to  grow 
fat,  ought  to  make  his  Yupa  (sacrificial 
post'  of  Bilva  wood.'    HAUG'S  Aitareya 
ordhmanam.  Vol.  If.  p.  7 3. 

4  The  Mimosa  Catechu.    *  He  who   de- 
sires heaven  ought  to  make  his  Yupa  of 
Khadira  wood,'— Ibid. 

*>  The  Butea  Frondosa.  *  He  who  desires 
beauty  and  sacred  knowledge  ought  to 
make  his  Yupa  of  Palasa  wood.'— ^Ibid. 

6  The  Cardla,  Latifolia. 

7  A  kind   of    pine.    The   word    means 
literally  the  tree  of  the  Gods  :  Compare 
the  Hebrew  rOTT  ^227  *  trees  of  the  Lord,' 


Twenty-and-one  those  stakes  in  all, 
Each  one-and-twenty  cubits  tall ; 
And  one-and-twenty  ribbons  there 
Hung  on  the  pillars,  bright  and  fair, 
Firm  in  the  earth  they  stood  at  last, 
Where  cunning  craftsmen  fixed  them  fast ; 
And  there  unshaken  each  remained, 
Octagonal  and  smoothly  planed. 
Then  ribbons  over  all  were  hung, 
And  flowers  and  scent  around  them  flang. 
Thus  decked  they  cast  a  glory  forth 
Like  the  great  saints  who  star  the  north.1 
The  sacrificial  altar  then 
Was  raised  by  skilful  twice-born  men, 
In  shape  and  figure  to  behold 
An  eagle  with  his  wings  of  gold, 
With  twice  nine  pits  and  formed  three-fold, 
Each  for  some  special  God,  beside 
The  pillars  were  the  victims  tied  ; 
The  birds  that  roam  the  wood,  the  air, 
The  water,  and  the  land  were  there, 
And  snakes  and  things  of  reptile  birth, 
And  healing  herbs  that  spring  from  earth ; 
As  texts  prescribe,  in  Scripture  found, 
Three  hundred  victims  there  were  bound. 
The  steed  devoted  to  the  host 
Of  Gods,  the  gem  they  honour  most, 
Was  duly  sprinkled.    Then  the  Queen 
Kausalya,  with  delighted  mien, 
With  reverent  steps  around  him  paced, 
And  with  sweet  wreaths  the  victim  graced; 
Then  with  three  swords  in  order  due 
She  smote  the  steed  with  joy,  and  slew. 
That  night  the  queen,  a  son  to  gain. 
With  calm  and  steady  heart  was  fain 
By  the  dead  charger's  side  to  stay 
From  evening  till  the  break  of  day. 
Then  came  three  priests,  their  care  to  lead 
The  other  queens  to  touch  the  steed, 
Upon  Kausalya  to  attend, 
Their  company  and  aid  to  lend. 
As  by  the  horse  she  still  reclined, 
With  happy  mien  and  oheerf  ul  mind, 
With  Rishyaaring  the  twice-born  came 
And  praised  and  blessed  the  royal  darne. 
The  priest  who  well  his  duty  knew, 
And  every  sense  could  well  subdue, 
From  out  the  bony  chambers  freed 
And  boiled  the  marrow  of  the  steed. 
Above  the  steam  the  monarch  bent, 
And,  as  he  smelt  the  fragrant  scent, 
In  time  and  order  drove  afar 
All  error  that  his  hopes  could  mar. 
Then  sixteen  priests  together  came 
And  cast  into  the  sacred  flame 
The  severed  members  of  the  horse, 
Made  ready  all  in  ordered  course. 
On  piles  of  holy  Fig-tree  raised 

1  The  Hindus  call  the  constellation  of 
Ursa  Major  the  Seven  Risius  or  Saiuts. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


The  meaner  victims'  bodies  blazed  : 
The  steed,  of  all  the  creatures  slaio, 
Alone  required  a  pile  of  cane. 
Three  days,  as  is  by  law  decreed, 
Lasted  that  Offering  of  the  Steed. 
The  Chatushtoni  began  the  rite, 
'And  when  the  sun  renewed  his  light, 
The  Ukthya  followed  :  after  came 
The  Atiratra's  l^ply  flame. 
These  were  the  rites,  and  many  more, 
Arranged  by  light  of  holy  lore, 
The  Aptoryam  of  mighty  power, 
And,  each  performed  in  proper  hour, 
The  Abhijit  and  Visvajit 
With  every  form  and  service  fit ; 
And  with  the  sacrifice  at  night 
The  Jyotishtom  and  Ay  us  rite.1 

1  A  minute  account  of  these  ancient 
ceremonies  would  be  out  of  place  here. 
'Agnishtoma  is  the  name  of  a  sacrifice, 
or  rather  a  series  of  offerings  to  fire  for 
:five  days.  It  is  the  first  and  principal 
part  of  the  Jyotishtcma,  one  of  the  great 
sacrifices  in  which  especially  the  juice  of 
the  Soma  plant  is  offered  for  the  purpose 
of  obtaining  Swarga  or  heaven.'  GOLD- 
STUCKER'S  DICTIONARY.  'The  Aguish- 
toma  is  Agni.  It  is  called  so  because  they 
(the  gods)  praised  him  with  this  Stoma. 
They  called  it  so  to  hide  the  proper  mean- 
ing of  the  word  ;  for  the  gods  like  to  hide 
the  proper  meaning  of  words.' 

'  On  account  of  four  classes  of  gods 
having  praised  Agni  with  four  Stomas, 
the  whole  was  called  Chahtushtoma  (con- 
taining four  Sttmas).' 
.  '  It  (the  Agnishtoma)  is  called  Jyotish- 
toma,  for  they  praised  Agni  when  he  had 
risen  up  (to  the  sky)  in  tne  shape  of  a 
Bght  (jyotis).' 

'  This  (Agnishtoma)  is  a  sacrificial  per- 
formance which  has  no  beginning  and 
no  end.'  HAUG'S  Aitareya  JJrdJimanam. 

-The  Atiratra,  literally  tasting  through 
•the  night,  is  a  division  of  the  service  'of 
the  Jyotishtom  a, 

The  Abhijit,  the  everywhere  victorious, 
is  the  name  of  a  sub-division  of  the  great 
sacrifice  of  the  Gavamanaya. 

The<.  Visvajit,  or  the  all- conquering,  is 
a  similar  sub-division, 

Ay  us,  is  the  name  of  a  service  forming 
a  division  of  the  Abhiplava  sacrifice. 

The  Aptoryam  is  the  seventh  or  last 
part  of  the  Jyotishtoma,  for  the  perform- 
ance of  which  it  is  not  essentially  neces- 
sary, but  a  voluntary  sacrifice  instituted 
for'the  attainment  of  a  specific  desire. 
The  literal  meaning  of  the  word  would 
be  in  •onf  ormity  with  the  Prmdhama- ' 


The  task  was  done,  as  laws  prescribe  : 
The  monarch,  glory  of  his  tribe, 
Bestowed  the  land  in  liberal  grants 
Upon  the  sacred  ministrants. 
Be  gave  the  region  of  the  east, 
His  conquest,  to  the  Hotri  priest. 
The  west,  the  celebrant  obtained  : 
The  south,  the  priest  presiding  gained  : 
The  northern  region  was  the  share 
Of  him  who  chanted  forth  the  prayer.1 
Thus  did  each  priest  obtain  his  meed 
At  the  great  Slaughter  of  the  Steed, 
Ordained,  the  best  of  all  to  be, 
By  self-existent  deity. 
Ikshvaku's  son  with  joyful  mind 
This  noble  fee  to  each  assigned, 
But  all  the  priests  with  one  accord 
Addressed  tnat  unpolluted  lord: 
*  'Tis  thine  alone  to  keep  the  whole 
Of  this  broad  earth  in  firm  control. 


noramd  'a  sacrifice  which  procures  the 
attainment  of  the  desired  object.  GOLD- 
STUCKER'S  DICTIONARY. 

'The  Ukthya  is  a  slight  modification  of 
the  Agnishtoma  sacrifice.  The  noun  to 
be  supplied  to  it  is  kratu.  It  is  a  Soma 
sacrifice  also,  and  one  of  the  seven  Sans- 
thas  or  component  parts  of  the  Jyotish- 
toma. Its  name  indicates  its  nature. 
For  Ukthya  means  "  what  refers  to  the 
Uktha,"  which  is  an  older  name  for 
Shastra,?'.  e.  recitation  of  one  of  the  Hotri 
priests  at  the  time  of  the  Soma  libations. 
Thus  this  sacrifice  is  only  a  kind  of  sup- 
plement to  the  Agnishtoma.'  HAUG. 
Ai.B. 

1  *  Four  classes  of  priests  were  required 
in  India  at  the  most  solemn  sacrifices, 
1.  The  officiating  priests,  manual  labour- 
ers, and  acolytes,  who  had  chiefly  to  pre- 
pare the  sacrificial  ground,  to  dress  the 
altar,  slay  the  victims,  and  pour  out  the 
libations.  2.  The  choristers,  who  chant 
the  sacred  hymns.  3.  The  reciters  or 
readers,  who  repeat  certain  hymns.  4. 
The  overseers  or  bishops,  who  watch  and 
superintend  the  proceedings  of  the  other 
priests,  and  ought  to  be  familiar  with  all 
the  Vedas.  The  formulas  and  verses  to 
be  muttered  by  the  first  class  are  contain- 
ed in  the  Yajur-veda-sanhita.  The  hymns 
to  be  sung  by  the  second  class  are  in  the 
Sama-veda-sanhita.  The  Atharva-veda 
is  said  to  be  intended  for  the  Brahman 
or  overseer,  who  is  to  watch  the  proceed- 
ings of  the  sacrifice,  and  to  remedy  any 
mistake  that  may  occur.  The  hymns  to 
be  recited  by  the  third  class  are  contained 
in  the  Kigveda,'  Chips  from  a  German 
Workshop. 


Canto  XIV. 


THE  RAM  AT  AN. 


25 


No  gift  of  lands  from  thee  we  seek  r 
To  guard  these  realms  our  hands  were  weak. 
On  sacred  lore  our  days  are  spent : 
Let  other  gifts  our  wants  content.' 
The  chief  of jold  Ikshvaku's  line 
Gave  them  ten  hundred  thousand  kine, 
A  hundred  millions  of  fine  gold, 
The  same  in  silver  four  times  told. 
But  every  priest  in  presence  there 
With  one  accord  resigned  his  share. 
To  Saint  Vasish^ha,  high  of  soul, 
And  Rishyasring  they  gave  the  whole, 
That  largess  pleased  those  Brahmans  well, 
Who  bade  the  prince  his  wishes  tell. 
Then  Dasaratha,  mighty  king. 
Made  answer  thus  to  Rishyasring  : 
*  O  holy  Hermit,  of  thy  grace, 
Vouchsafe  the  increase  of  my  race.' 
He  spoke  ;  nor  was  his  prayer  denied  : 
The  best  of  Brahmans  thus  replied  : 
*Four  sons,  O  Monarch,  shall  be  thine, 
Upholders  of  thy  royal  line.' 


CANTO  XIV. 


RAVA1J  DOOMED. 

The  saint,  well  read  in  holy  lore, 
Pondered  awhile  his  answer  o'er, 
And  thus  again  addressed  the  king, 
His  wandering  thoughts  regathering  : 
'  Another  rite  will  I  begin 
Which  shall  the  sons  thou  cravest  win, 
Where  all  things  shall  be  duly  sped 
And  first  Atharva  texts  be  read.' 

Then  by  Vibhandak's  gentle  son 
Was  that  high  sacrifice  begun, 
The  king's  advantage  seeking  still 
And  zealous  to  perform  his  will. 
Now  all  the  Gods  had  gathered  there, 
Each  one  for  his  allotted  share  : 
Brahma,  the  ruler  of  the  sky, 
Sthanu,  Narayan,  Lord  most  high, 
And  holy  Indra  men  might  view 
With  Maruts  '  for  his  retinue  ; 
The  heavenly  chorister,  and  saint, 
And  spirit  pure  from  earthly  taint, 
With  one  accord  had  sought  the  place 
The  high-souled  monarch's  rite  to  grace. 
Then  to  the  Gods  who  came  to  take 
Their  proper  share  the  hermit  spake  : 
'  For  you  has  Dasaratha  slain 
The  votive  steed,  a  son  to  gain  ; 
Stern  penance-rites  the  king  has  tried, 
And  in  firm  faith  on  you  relied, 

1  Th  3  Maruts  are  the  winds,  deified  in 
the  religion  of  the  Ve.da  like  other  mighty 
powers  and  phenomena  of  nature. 


And  now  with  un diminished  care 
A  second  rite  would  fain  prepare. 
But,  O  ye  Gods,  consent  to  grant 
The  longing  of  your  supplicant. 
For  him  beseeching  hands  I  lift, 
And  pray  you  all  to  grant  the  gift, 
That  four  fair  sons  of  high  renown 
The  offerings  of  the  king  may  crown,' 
They  to  the  hermit's  son  replied : 
*  His  longing  shall  be  gratified. 
For,  Brahman,  in  most  high  degree 
We  love  the  king  and  honour  thee.' 

These  words  the  Gods  in  answer  said, 
And  vanished  thence  by  Indra  led. 
Thus  to  the  Lord,  the  worlds  who  made, 
The  Immortals  all  assembled  prayed  : 
4  O  Brahma,  mighty  by  thy  grace, 
Ravan,  who  rules  the  giant  race, 
Torments  us  in  his  senseless  pride, 
And  penance-loving  saints  beside. 
For  thou  well  pleased  in  days  of  old 
Gavest  the  boon  that  makes  him  bold, 
That  God  nor  demon  e'er  should  kill 
His  charmed  life,  for  so  thy  will. 
We,  honouring  that  high  behest, 
Bear  all  his  rage  though  sore  distressed. 
That  lord  of  giants  fierce  and  fell 
Scourges  the  earth  and  heaven  and  hell. 
Mad  with  thy  boon,  his  impious  rage 
Smites  saint  and  bard  and  God  and  sage. 
The  sun  himself  withholds  his  glow, 
The  wind  in  fear  forbears  to  blow  ; 
The  fire  restrains  his  wonted  heat 
Where  stand  the  dreaded  Ravan's  feet, 
And,  necklaced  with  the  wandering  wave, 
The  sea  before  him  fears  to  rave. 
Kuvera's  self  in  sad  defeat 
Is  driven  from  his  blissful  seat, 
We  see,  we  feel  the  giant's  might, 
A^d  woe  comes  o'er  us  and  affright. 
To  thee,  O  Lord,  thy  suppliants  pray 
To  iind  some  cure  this  plague  to  stay.' 

Thus  by  the  gathered  Gods  addressed 
He  pondered  in  his  secret  breast, 
And  said  :  *  One  only  way  I  find 
To  slay  this  fiend  of  evil  mind. 
He  prayed  me  once  his  life  to  guard 
From  demon.  God,  and  heavenly  bard,     ' 
And  spirits  of  the  earth  and  air, 
And  I  consenting  heard  his  prayer. 
But  the  proud  giant  in  his  scorn 
Recked  not  of  man  of  woman  born. 
None  else  may  take  his  life  away, 
But  only  man  the  fiend  may  slay.' 
The  Gods,  with  Indra  at  their  head 
Rejoiced  to  hear  the  words  he  said.' 
Then,  crowned  with  glory  like  a  flame 
Lord  Vishnu  to  the  council  came  ; 
His  hands  shell,  mace,  and  discus  bore  *• 
And  saffron  were  the  robes  he  wore. 


THE  RAMA  TAN. 


Book  1. 


Biding  hi§  eagle  through  the  crowd, 
As  the  sun  rides  upon  a  cloud, 
With  bracelets  of  fine  gold,  he  came 
Loud  welcomed  by  the  Gods'  acclaim, 
His  praise  they  sang  with  one  consent, 
And  cried,  in  lowly  reverence  bent: 
'O  Lord  whose  hand  fierce  Madhu1  slew, 
Be  thou  our  refuge,  firm  and  true  ; 
Friend  of  the  suffering  worlds  art  thou, 
We  pray  thee  help  thy  suppliants  now.' 
Then  Vishnu  spake  :  '  Ye  Gods,  declare, 
What  may  I  do  to  grant  your  prayer  ? ' 

'King  Dasaratha,'  thus  cried  they, 
'Fervent  in  penance  many  a  day, 
The  sacrificial  steed  has  slain, 
Longing  for  sons,  but  all  in  vain. 
Now,  at  the  cry  of  us  forlorn, 
Incarnate  as  his  seed  be  born. 
Three  queens  has  he:  each  lovely  dame 
Like  Beauty,  Modesty,  or  Fame. 
Divide  thyself  in  four,  and  be 
His  offspring  by  these  noble  three. 
Man's  nature  take,  and  slay  in  fight 
Bavan  who  laughs  at  heavenly  might : 
This  common  scourge,  this  rankling  thorn 
Whom  the  three  worlds  too  long  have  borne. 
For  Ravan  in  the  senseless  pride 
Of  might  unequalled  has  defied 
The  host  of  heaven,  and  plagues  with  woe 
Angel  and  bard  and  saint  below, 
Crushing  each  spirit  and  each  maid 
Who  plays  in  Nandan's2  heavenly  shade. 
O  conquering  Lord,  to  thee  we  bow  ; 
Our  surest  hope  and  trust  art  thou. 
Regard  the  world  of  men  below, 
And  slay  the  Gods'  tremendous  foe.' 

When  thus  the  suppliant  Gods  had  prayed, 
His  wise  reply  Nar£yan3  made  : 
'  What  task  demands  my  presence  there, 
And  whence  this  dread,  ye  Gods  declare.' 

The  Gods  replied  :  *  We  fear,  O  Lord, 
Fierce  Kavan,  ravener  abhorred. 
Be  thine  the  glorious  task,  we  pray, 
lu  human  form  this  fiend  to  slay. 
By  thee  of  all  the  Blest  alone 
This  sinner  may  be  overthrown. 
He  gained  by  penance  long  and  dire 
The  favour  of  the  mighty  Sire. 
Then  He  who  every  gift  bestows 


Guarded  the  fiend  from  heavenly  foes, 
And  gave  a  pledge  his  life  that  kept 
From  all  things  living,  man  except. 
On  him  thus  armed  no  other  foe 
Thau  man  may  deal  the  deadly  blow. 
Assume,  O  King,  a  mortal  birth, 
And  strike  the  demon  to  the  earth.' 

Then  Vishnu,  God  of  Gods,  the  Lord 
Supreme  by  ail  the  worlds  adored, 
To  Brahma  and  the  suppliants  spake  : 
*  Dismiss  your  fear:  for  your  dear   sake 
In  battle  will  I  smite  him  dead, 
The  cruel  fiend,  the  Immortal's  dread, 
And  lords  and  ministers  and  all 
His  kith  and  kin  with  him  shall  fall. 
Then,  in  the  world  of  mortal  men, 
Ten  thousand  years  and  hundreds  ten 
I  as  a  human  king  will  reign, 
And  guard  the  earth  as  my  domain.' 

God,  saint,  and  nymph,  and  ministrel 

throng 

With  heavenly  voices  raised  their  song 
In  hymns  of  triumph  to  the  God 
Whose  conquering  feet  on  Madhu  trod  : 

'Champion  of  Gods,  as  man  appear, 
This  cruel  Ravan  slay, 

The  thorn  that  saints  and  hermits  fear, 
The  plague  that  none  can  stay. 

In  savage  fury  uncontrolled 
His  pride  for  ever  grows  : 

He  dares  the  Lord  of  Gods  to  hold 
Among  his  deadly  foes.' 

CANTO  XV. 


1  A  Titan  or  fiend  whose  destruction 
has  given  Vishnu  one  of  his  well-known 
titles,  Madhava. 

2  The  garden  of  Indra. 

3  One  of  the  most  ancient  and  popular 
*)f  the  numerous  names  of  Vishnu.    The 
word  has  been  derived  in  several  ways, 
and  may  mean  he  who  moved  on  tke  (pri- 
mordial) waters,  or  h^  who  pervades  or 
influences  men  or  their  thoughts, 


THE  NECTAR. 

When  wisest  Vishnu  thus  had  given 
His  promise  to  the* Gods  of  heaven, 
He  pondered  in  his  secret  mind 
A  suited  place  of  birth  to  find. 
Then  he  decreed,  the  lotus-eyed, 
In  four  his  being  to  divide, 
And  Dasaratha,  gracious  king, 
He  chose  as  sire  from  whom  to  spring, 
That  childless  prince  of  high  renown, 
Who  smote  in  war  his  foemen  down, 
At  that  same  time  with  utmost  care 
Prepared  the  rite  that  wins  an  heir.1 
Then  Vishnu,  fain  on  earth  to  dwell, 
Bade  the  Almighty  Sire  farewell, 
And  vanished  while  a  reverent  crowd 
Of  Gods  and  saints  in  worship  bowed. 

The  monarch  watched  the  sacred  rite, 
When  a  vast  form  of  awful  might, 
Of  matcless  splendour,  strength,  and  size. 
Was  manifest  before  his  eyes. 

1  The  Horse-Saorifioe,  just  described. 


Canto  XVI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


27 


From  forth  the  sacrificial  flame, 
Dark,  robed  in  red,  the  being  came. 
His  voice  was  drumlike,  loud  and  low, 
His  face  suffused  with  rosy  glow. 
Like  a  huge  lion's  mane  appeared 
The  long  locks  of  his  hair  and  beard. 
He  shone  with  many  a  luckv  sign, 
And  many  an  ornament  divine ; 
A  towering  mountain  in  his  height, 
A  tiger  in  his  gait  and  might. 
No  precious  mine  more  rich  could  he, 
No  burning  flame  more  bright  than  he. 
His  arms  embraced  in  loving  hold, 
Like  a  dear  wife,  a  vase  of  gold 
Whose  silver  lining  held  a  draught 
Of  nectar  as  in  heaven  is  quaffed  : 
A  vase  so  vast,  so  bright  to  view, 
They  scarce  could  count  the  vision  true. 
Upon  the  king  his  eyes  he  bent, 
And  said  :  *  The  Lord  of  life  has  sent 
His  servant  down,  O  Prince,  to  be 
A  messenger  from  heaven  to  thee.' 
The  king  with  all  fcis  nobles  by 
Baised  reverent  hands  and  made  reply  : 
1  Welcome,  0  glorious  being  !  Say 
How  can  my  care  thy  grace  repay.' 
Envoy  of  Him  whom  all  adore 
Thus  to  the  king  he  spake  once  more  ; 
4  The  Gods  accept  thy  worship :  they 
Give  thee  the  blessed  fruit  to-day. 
Approach  and  take.  O  glorious  King, 
This  heavenly  nectar  which  I  bring, 
For  it  shall  give  thee  sons  and  wealth, 
And  bless  thee  with  a  store  of  health. 
Give  it  to  those  fair  queens  of  thine, 
And  bid  them  quaff  the  drink  divine  ; 
And  they  the  princely  sons  shall  bear 
Long  sought  by  sac ri lice  and  prayer.' 

4  Yea,  0  my  lord,'  the  monarch  said, 
And  took  the  vase  upon  his  head, 
The  gift  of  Gods,  of  tine  gold  wrought, 
With  store  of  heavenly  liquor  fraught, 
He  honoured,  filled  with  transport  new, 
That  wondrous  being,  fair  to  view, 
As  round  the  envoy  of  the  God 
With  reverential  steps  he  trod.1 


1  To  walk  round  an  object  keeping  the 
right  side  towards  it  is  a  mark  of  great 
respect.  The  Sanskrit  word  for  the  observ- 
ance is  pradakthind,  from  pra  pro,  and 
daksha  right,  Greek  Sg£foe,  Latin  dex- 
ter, Gaelic  deas-il.  A  similar  ceremony  ig 
observed  by  the  Gaels. 

'  In  the  meantime  she  traced  around 
him,  with  wavering  steps,  the  propitiation, 
^hich  some  have  thought  has  been  deriv- 
ed from  the  Druidical  mythology.  It  con- 
sists, as  ia  well  known,  in  the  person  who 
makes  the  deasil  walking  three  times 
round  the  person  who  is  the  object  of  the 


His  errand  done,  that  form  of  light 
Arose  and  vanished  from  the  sight. 
High  rapture  rilled  the  monarch's  soul, 
Possessed  of  that  celestial  bowl, 
As  when  a  man  by  want  distressed 
With  unexpected  wealth  is  blest. 
And  rays  of  transport  seemed  to  fall 
Illuminating  bower  and  hall, 
As  when  the  autumn  moon  rides  high, 
And  floods  with  lovely  light  the  sky. 
Quick  to  the  ladies'  bower  he  sped, 
And  thus  to  Queen  Rausaly£  said  : 
*  This  genial  nectar  take  and  quaff/ 
He  spoke,  and  gave  the  lady  half. 
Part  of  the  nectar  that  remained 
Sumitra  from  his  hand  obtained. 
He  gave,  to  make  her  fruitful  too, 
Kaikevi  half  the  residue. 
A  portion  yet  remaining  there, 

He  paused  awhile  to  think. 
Then  gave  Sumitr£,  with  her  share, 

The  remnant  of  the  drink. 
Thus  on  each  queen  of  those  fair  three 

A  part  the  king  bestowed, 
And  with  sweet  hope  a  child  to  see 

Their  yearning  bosoms  glowed. 
The  heavenly  bowl  the  king  supplied 

Their  longing  souls  relieved, 
And  soon,  with  rapture  and  with  pride, 

Each  royal  dame  conceived. 
He  gazed  upon  each  lady's  face, 

And  triumphed  as  he  gazed, 
As  Indra  in  his  royal  place 

By  Gods  and  spirits  praised. 

CANTO  XVI. 


THE  VANARS. 

When  Visnnu  thus  had  gone  on  earth, 
From  the  great  king  to  take  his  birth, 
The  self -existent  Lord  of  all 
Addressed  the  Gods  who  heard  his  call : 
'  For  Vishnu's  sake,  the  strong  and  true, 
Who  seeks  the  gcod  of  all  of  you, 
Make  helps,  in  war  to  lend  him  aid, 
In  forms  that  change  at  will,  arrayed, 
Of  wizard  skill  and  hero  might, 
Outstrippers  of  the  wind  in  flight, 
Skilled  in  the  arts  of  counsel;  wise, 
And  Vishnu's  peers  in  bold  emprise  ; 
With  heavenly  arts  and  prudence  fraught, 
By  no  devices  to  be  caught ; 
Skilled  in  all  weapon's  lore  and  use 
As  they  who  drink  the  immortal  juice.1 

ceremony,  taking  care  to  move  according 
to  the  course  of  the  sun.' 

SCOTT.  The  Two  Drovers. 
1  The  Amritj  the  nectar  of  the  Indian 
Gods, 


2S  THE  RAM  AY  AN. 

And  let  the  nymphs  supreme  in  grace, 
And  maidens  of  the  minstrel  race, 
Monkeys  and  snakes,  and  those  who  rove 
Free  spirits  of  the  hill  and  grove, 
And  wandering  Daughters  of  the  Air, 
In  monkey  form  brave  children  bear. 
So  erst  the  lord  of  bears  I  shaped, 
Born  from  my  mouth  as  wide  I  gaped.' 

Thus  by  the  mighty  Sire  addressed 
They  all  obeyed  his  high  behest, 
And  thus  begot  in  countless  swarms 
Brave  sons  disguised  in  sylvan  forms. 
Each  God,  each  sage  became  a  sire, 
Each  minstrel  of  the  heavenly  quire,1 
Each  faun,2  of  children  strong  and  good 
Whose  feet  should  roam  the  hill  and  wood. 
Snakes,  bards,3  and  spirits,4  serpents  bold 
Had  sons  too  numerous  to  be  told. 
B&li,  the  woodland  hosts  who  led, 
High  as  Mahendra's5  lofty  head, 
Was  Indra's  child.    That  noblest  fire, 
The  Sun,  was  great  Sugriva's  sire. 
Tara,  the  mighty  monkey,  he 
Was  offspring  of  Vrihaspati  :6 
Tara  the  matchless  chieftain,  boast 
For  wisdom  of  the  Vanar  host. 
Of  Gandhamadan  brave  and  bold 
The  father  was  the  Lord  of  Gold. 
Nala  the  mighty,  dear  to  fame, 
Of  skilful  Visvakarma7  came. 
From  Agni,8  Nila  bright  as  flame, 
Who  in  his  splendour,  might,  and  worth, 
Surpassed  the  sire  who  gave  him  birth. 


Boole  I. 


1  Gandharvas  (Southey's  Glendoveers) 
are  celestial  musicians  inhabiting  Indra's 
heaven  and  forming  the  orchestra  at  all 
the  banquets  of  the  principal  deities, 

*  Yakshas,  demigods  attendant  especial- 
ly on  Kuvera,  and  employed  by  him  in  the 
care  of  his  garden  arid  treasures. 

3  Kimpnrnshas,  demigods  attached  also 
to  the  service  of  Kuvera,  celestial  musici- 
ans,  represented   like  centaurs    reversed 
with  human  figures  and  horses'  heads. 

4  Siddhas,  demigods  or  spirits  of  undefin- 
ed attributes,  occupying  with  the  Vidyd- 
dJiaras  the  middle  air  or  region  between 
the  earth  and  the  sun. 

Schlegel  translates :  *  Divi,  Sapientes, 
Fidicines,  Praepetes,  illustres  Genii,  Pr*e- 
eonesque  procrearunt  natos,  masculos,  sil- 
vicolas  ;  angues  porro,  Hippocephali  Beati, 
Aligeri,  Serpentesque  frequentes  alacriter 
generavere  prolem  innumerabilem.' 

5  A  mountain  in  the  south  of  India. 

6  The  preceptor  of  the  Gods  and  regent 
of  the  planet  Jupiter. 

7  The   celestial   architect,   the    Indian 
Hephaestus,  Mulciber,  or  Vulcan. 

»  The  God  of  Fire, 


The  heavonly  Asvlns,1  swift  and  fair, 
Were  fathers  of  a  noble  pair, 
Who,  Dwivida  and  Mainda  named, 
For  beauty  like  their  sires  were  famed. 
Varun"  was  father  of  Sushen, 
Of  Sarabh,  he  who  sends  the  rain,3 
Hanuman,  best  of  monkey  kind, 
Was  son  of  him  who  breathes  the  wind  : 
Like  thunderbolt  in  frame  was  he, 
And  swift  as  Garud's4  self  could  flee. 
These  thousands  did  the  Gods  create 
Endowed  with  might  that  none  could  mate, 
In  monkey  forms  that  changed  at  will ; 
So  strong  their  wish  the  fiend  to  kill. 
In  mountain  size,  like  lions  the  wed, 
Up  sprang  the  wondrous  multitude, 
Auxiliar  hosts  in  every  shape, 
Monkey  and  bear  and  highland  ape. 
In  each  the  strength,  the  might,  the  mien 
Of  his  own  parent  God  were  seen. 
Some  chiefs  of  Vanar  mothers  came, 
Some  of  she-bear  and  minstrel  dame, 
Skilled  in  all  arms  in  battle's  shock  ; 
The  brandished  tree,  the  loosened  rock ; 
And  prompt,  should  other  weapons  fail, 
To  fight  and  slay  with  tooth  and  nail. 
Their  strength  could  shake  the  hills  amain, 
And  rend  the  rooted  trees  in  twain, 
Disturb  with  their  impetuous  sweep 
The  Kivers'  Lord,  the  Ocean  deep, 
Rend  with  their  feet  the  seated  ground, 
And  pass  wide  floods  with  airy  bound, 
Or  forcing  through  the  sky  their  way 
The  very  clouds  by  force  could  stay. 
Mad  elephants  that  wander  through 
The  forest  wilds,  could  they  subdue, 
And  with  their  furious  shout  could  scare 
Dead  upon  earth  the  birds  of  air. 
So  were  the  sylvan  chieftains  formed  ; 
Thousands  on  thousands  still  they  swarmed. 
These  were  the  leaders  honoured  most, 
The  captains  of  the  Vanar  host, 
And  to  each  lord  and  chief  and  guide 
Was  monkey  offspring  born  beside. 
Then  by  the  bears'  great  monarch  stood 
The  other  roamers  of  the  wood, 

1  Twin  children  of  the  Sun,  the  physici- 
ans of  Swarga  or  Indra's  heaven. 
*  The  deity  of  the  waters. 

3  Parjanya,  sometimes  confounded  with 
Indra. 

4  The  bird  and  vehicle  of  Visnu.    He  is 
generally  represented  as  a  being  something 
between  a  man  and  a  bird  and  considered 
as  the   sovereign  of  the  feathered   race. 
He  may  be  compared  with  the  Simurgh 
of  the  Persians,  the  'Auka  of  the  Arabs, 
the  Griffin  of  chivalry,  the   Phcenix  of 
Egypt,  and  the  bird  that  sits  upon  the  aah 
Yggdraail  of  the  Edda, 


Canto  XVII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AX. 


29 


And  turned,  their  pathless  homes  to  seek, 
To  forest  and  to  mountain  peak. 
Tae  leaders  of  the  monkey  band 
By  the  two  brothers  took  their  stand, 
Sugriva,  offspring  of  the  Sun, 
And  Bali,  Indra's  might}'  one. 
They  both  endowed  with  Garud's  might, 
And  sky  led  in  all  the  arts  of  fight, 
Wandered  in  arms  the  forest  through, 
And  lions,  snakes,  and  tigers,  slew. 
But  every  monkey,  ape,  and  bear 
Ever  was  Bali's  special  care  ; 
With  his  vast  strength  and  mighty  arm 
He  kept  them  from  all  scathe  and  harm. 
And  so  the  earth  with  hill,  wood,  seas, 
Was  filled  with  mighty  ones  like  these, 
Of  various  shape  and  race  and  kind, 
With  proper  homes  to  each  assigned, 
With  Kama's  champions  fierce  and  strong 

The  earth  was  overspread, 
High  as  the  hills  and  clouds,  a  throng 

With  bodies  vast  and  dread.1 


CANTO  XVII. 


RISHYAgRING'S  RETURN. 

Now  when  the  high-souled  monarch's  rite, 

The  Asvamedh,  was  finished  quite, 

Their  sacrificial  dues  obtained, 

The  Gods  their  heavenly  homes  regained. 

The  lofty-minded  saints  withdrew, 

Each  to  his  place,  with  honour  due, 

And  kings  and  chieftains,  one  and  all, 

Who  came  to  grace  the  festival. 

And  Dasaratha,  ere  they  went, 

Addressed  them  thus  benevolent : 

*  Now  may  you,  each  with  joyful  heart, 

To  your  own  realms,  O  Kings,  depart. 

Peace  and  good  luck  attend  you  there, 

And  blessing,  is  my  friendly  prayer  ; 

Let  cares  of  state  each  mind  engage 

To  guard  his  royal  heritage, 

A  monarch  from  his  throne  expelled 

No  better  than  the  dead  is  held. 

1  This  Canto  will  appear  ridiculous  to 
the  European  reader.  But  it  should  be 
remembered  that  the  monkeys  of  an 
Indian  forest,  the  '  bough-deer'  as  the 
poets  call  them,  are  very  different  animals 
from  the  'turpissima  bestia'  that  accom- 
panies the  itinerant  organ-grinder  or  grins 
in  the  Zoological  Gardens  of  London. 
Milton  has  made  his  hero,  Satan,  assume 
the  forms  of  a  cormorant,  a  toad,  and  a 
serpent,  and  I  cannot  see  that  this  creation 
of  sen',  i-di  vine  Vanars,  or  monkeys,  is 
more  ridiculous  or  undignified, 


So  he  who  cares  'for  power  and  might 
Mast  guard  his  realm  and  royal  right. 
Such  care  a  meed  in  heaven  will  bring 
Better  than  rites  and  offering. 
Such  care  a  king  his  country  owes 
As  man  upon  himself  bestows, 
When  for  his  body  he  provides 
Raiment  and  every  need  besides. 
For  future  days  should  kings  foresee, 
And  keep  the  present  error-free.' 

Thus  did  the  king  the  kings  exhort  : 
They  heard,and  turned  them  from  the  aourt, 
And,  each  to  each  in  friendship  bound, 
Went  forth  to  all  the  realms  around. 
The  rites  were  o'er,  the  guests  were  sped : 
The  train  the  best  of  Brahmans  led, 
In  which  the  king  with  joyful  soul, 
With  his  dear  wives, *and  with  the  whole 
Of  his  imperial  host  and  train 
O£  cars  and  servants  turned  again, 
And.  as  a  monarch  dear  to  fame, 
Within  his  royal  city  came. 

Next,  Rishyasring.  well-honoured  sage, 
And  Santa,  sought  their  hermitage. 
The  king  himself,  of  prudent  mind, 
Attended  him,  with  troops  behind. 
And  all  her  men  the  town  outpoured 
With  Saint  Vasishtha  and  their  lord. 
High  mounted  on  a  car  of  state, 
O'ercanopied  fair  &anta  sate, 
Drawn  by  white  oxen,  while  a  band 
Of  servants  marched  on  either  hand. 
Great  gifts  of  countless  price  she  bore, 
VVith  sheep  and  goats  and  gems  in  sfeore. 
Like  Beauty's  self  the  lady  shone 
With  all  the  jewels  she  had  on, 
As,  happy  in  her  sweet  content, 
Peerless  amid  the  fair  she  went. 
Not  Queen  Paulomi's1  self  c  mid  be 
More  loving  to  her  lord  than  she. 
She  who  had  lived  in  happy  ea^e, 
Honoured  with  all  her  heart  c:>uld  please,  , 
While  dames  and  kinsfolk  ever  vied 
To  see  her  wishes  gratified, 
Soon  as  she  knew  her  husband's  will 
Again  to  seek  the  forest,  still 
Was  ready  for  the  hermit's  cot, 
Nor  murmured  at  her  altered  lot. 
The  king  attended  to  the  wild 
That  hermit  and  his  own  dear  child, 
And  in  the  centre  of  a  throng 
Of  noble  courtiers  rode  along. 
The  sage's  son  had  let  prepare 
A  lodge  within  the  wood,  and  there 
While  they  lingered  blithe  and  gay, 
Then,  duly  honoured,  went  their  way. 
The  glorious  hermit  Bishyasriug 
Drew  near  and  thus  besought  the  king  : 

l  Tke    consort  of   Indra,    called  also 
Sachi  and  Indrani. 


THE  RAMATAN. 


JBook  I 


*  Return,  my  honoured  lord,  I  pray, 
Return,  upon  thy  homeward  way.' 
The  monarch,  with  the  waiting  crowd, 
Lifted  his  voice  and  wept  aloud, 
And  with  eyes  dripping  Ktill  to  each 
Of  his  good  queens  he  spake  this  speech  : 

'  Kausalya  and  Sumitra  dear, 
And  thou.  my  sweet  Kaikeyi.  hear. 
All  upon  >3anta  feast  your  gaze, 
The  last  time  for  a  length  of  days,' 
To  Santa's  arms  the  ladies  leapt, 
And  hung  about  her  neck  and  wept, 
And  cried,  *  0.  happy  be  the  life 
Of  this  great  Brahman  and  his  wife. 
The  Wind,  the  Fire,  the  Moon  on  high, 
The  Earth,  the  Streams,  the  circling  Sky, 
Preserve  thee  in  the  wood,  true  spouse, 
Devoted  to  thy  husband's  vows. 
And  O  dear  iSa'nta,  ne'er  neglect 
To  pay  the  dues  of  meek  respect 
To  the  great  saint,  thy  husband's  sire, 
With  all  observance  and  with  fire. 
And,  sweet  one,  pure  of  spot  and  blame, 
Forget  not  thou  thy  husband's  claim  ; 
In  every  change,  in  good  and  ill, 
Let  thy  sweet  words  delight  him  still, 
And  let  thy  worship  constant  be  : 
Her  lord  is  woman's  deity. 
To  learn  thy  welfare,  dearest  friend, 
The  king  will  many  a  Brahman  send. 
Let  happy  thoughts  thy  spirit  cheer. 
And  be  not  troubled,  daughter  dear.' 

These  soothing  words  the  ladies  said. 
And  pressed  their  lips  upon  her  head. 
Kach  gave  with  sighs  her  last  adieu, 
Then  at  the  king's  command  withdrew. 
The  king  around  the  hermit  went 
With  circling  footsteps  reverent, 
And  placed  at  Rishyasring's  command 
Some  soldiers  of  his  royal  band. 
The  Brahman  bowed  in  turn  and  cried, 
•M  ay  fortune  never  leave  thy  side. 
O  mighty  King,  with  justice  reign, 
And  still  thy  people's  love  retain.' 
He  spoke,  and  turned  away  his  face, 

And,  as  the  hermit  went. 
The  monarch,  rooted  to  the  place, 

Pursued  with  eyes  intent. 
But  when  the  sage  had  past  from  view 
King  Dasaratha  turned  him  too, 
Still  fixing  on  his  friend  each  thought, 
With  such  deep  love  his  breast  was  fraught. 
Amid  his  people's  loud  acclaim 
Home  to  his  royal  seat  he  came, 

And  lived  delighted  there, 
Expecting  when  each  queenly  dame, 
Upholder  of  his  ancient  fame, 

Her  promised  son  should  bear. 
The  glorious  sage  his  way  pursued 
Till  close  before  his  eyes  he  viewed 


Sweet  Champa,  Lomapad's  fair  town, 
Wreathed  with  her  (Jhampacs'1  leafy  crown. 
Soon  as  the  saint's  approach  he  knew, 
'J  he  king,  to  yield  him  honour  due. 
Went  forth  to  meet  him  with  a  band 
Of  priests  and  nobles  of  the  land  : 
'  Hail,  Sage,'  he  cried,  *  O  joy  to  me  f 
What  bliss  it  is,  my  lord,  to  see 
Thee  with  thy  wife  and  all  thy  train 
Returning  to  my  town  again. 
Thy  father,  honoured  Sage,  is  well, 
Who  hither  from  his  woodland  cell 
Has  sent  full  many  a  messenger 
For  tidings  both  of  thee  and  her.' 
Then  joyfully,  for  due  respect, 
The  monarch  bade  the  town  be  decked. 
The  king  and  Rishyasring  elate 
Entered  the  royal  city's  gate  : 

In  front  the  chaplain  rode. 
Then,  loved  and  honoured  with  all  care 
By  monarch  and  by  courtier,  there 

The  glorious  saint  abode. 

CANTO  XVIII. 


RISHYAgRING'S  DEPARTURE. 

The  monarch  called  a  Brahman  near 

And  said,  'Now  speed  away 
To  Kasyap's  son.3  the  mighty  seer, 

And  with  all  reverence  say 
The  holy  child  he  holds  so  dear, 
The  hermit  of  the  noble  mind, 
Whose  equal  it  were  hard  to  find, 

Returned,  is  dwelling  here. 
Go,  and  instead  of  me  do  thou 
Before  that  best  of  hermits  bow, 
That  still  he  may,  for  his  dear  son, 
Show  me  the  favour  I  have  won.' 
Soon  as  the  king  these  words  had  said, 
To  Kasyap's  son  the  Brahman  sped. 
Before  the  hermit  low  he  bent 
And  did  obeisance,  reverent ; 
Then  with  meek  words  his  grace  to  crave 
The  message  of  his  lord  he  gave  : 
4  The  high-souled  father  of  his  bride 
Had  called  thy  son  his  rites  to  guide  : 
Those  rites  are  o'er,  the  steed  is  slain  ; 
Thy  noble  child  is  come  again.' 

Soon  as  the  saint  that  speech  had  heard 
His  spirit  with  desire  was  stirred 
To  seek  the  city  of  the  king 
And  to  his  cot  his  son  to  bring. 

1  The  Michelia  champaca.    It  bears  a 
scented  yellow  blossom  : 
•  The  maid  of  India  blest  again  to  hold 
In  her  full  lap  theChampac's  leaves  of  gold.' 
Lallah  Rookk. 

*  Vibhandak,  the  father  of  Kish)  aaring. 


Canto  XIX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


SI 


With  young  disciples  at  his  side 
Forth  on  his  way  the  hermit  hied, 
While  peasants  from  their  hamlets  ran 
To  reverence  the  holy  man. 
Each  with  his  little  gift  of  food, 
Forth  came  the  village  multitude, 
And,  as  they  humbly  bowed  the  head, 
4  What  may  we  do  for  thee  ? '  they  said. 
Then  he,  of  Brahmans  first  and  best, 
The  gathered  people  thus  addressed : 

*  Now  tell  me  for  I  fain  would  know, 
Why  is  it  I  am  honoured  so  ? ' 

They  to  the  high-souled  saint  replied: 

*  Our  ruler  is  with  thee  allied. 
Our  master's  order  we  fulfil  ; 

O  Brahman,  let  thy  mind  be  still.' 

With  joy  the  saintly  hermit  heard 
Each  pleasant  and  delightful  word, 
And  poured  a  benediction  down 
On  king  and  ministers  and  town. 
Glad  at  the  words  of  that  high  saint 
Some  servants  hastened  to  acquaint 
Their  king,  rejoicing  to  impart 
The  tidings  that  would  cheer  his  heart. 
Soon  as  the  joyful  tale  he  knew 
To  meet  the  saint  the  monarch  flew, 
The  guest-gift  in  his  hand  he  brought, 
And  bowed  before  him  and  besought : 

*  This  day  by  seeing  thee  I  gain 
Not  to  have  lived  my  life  in  vain, 
Now  be  not  wroth  w'ith  me,  I  pray, 
Because  I  wiled  thy  son  away/1 

The  best  of  Brahmans  answer  made : 

*  Be  not.  great  lord  of  kings,  afraid. 
Thy  virtues  have  not  failed  to  win 
My  favour,  O  thou  pure  of  sin.1 
Then  in  the  front  the  saint  was  placed, 
The  king  came  next  in  joyous  haste, 
And  with  him  entered  his  abode, 
Mid  glad  acclaim  as  on  they  rode. 

To  greet  the  sage  the  reverent  crowd 
Raised  suppliant  hands  and  humbly  bowed. 
Then  from  the  palace  many  a  dame 
Following  well-dressed  3anta  came, 
Stood  by  the  mighty  saint  and  cried  :  ^ 

*  See,  honour's  source,  thy  son's  dear  bride,' 
The  saint,  who  every  virtue  knew, 

His  arms  around  his  daughter  threw, 
And  with  a  father's  rapture  pressed 
The  lady  to  his  wondering  breast. 
Arising  from  the  saint's  embrace 
She  bowed  her  low  before  his  face, 
And  then,  with  palm  to  palm  applied, 
Stood  by  her  hermit  father's  side. 
He  for  his  son,  as  laws  ordain, 
Performed  the  rite  that  frees  from  stain, a 

1  A  hemisloka  is  wanting  in  Schlegel's 
text,  which  he  thus  fills  up  in  his  Latin 
translation. 

*  Rishyasring,  a  Br&hiuaii,  had  married 


And,  honoured  by  the  wise  and  gcod, 
With  him  departed  to  the  wood. 

CANTO  XIX. 


THE  BIRTH  OF  THE  PRINCES. 

The  seasons  six  in  rapid  flight 

Had  circled  since  that  glorious  rite. 

Eleven  months  had  passed  away  : 

'Twas  Chaitra's  ninth  returning  day.1 

The  moon  within  that  mansion  shone 

Which  Aditi  looks  kindly  on. 

Raised  to  their  apex  in  the  sky 

Five  brilliant  planets  beamed  on  high. 

Shone  with  the  moon,  in  Cancer's  sign, 

Vrihaspati*  with  light  divine. 

Kausalya  bore  an  infant  blest 

With  heavenly  marks  of  grace  impressed; 

Kama,  the  universe's  lord, 

A  prince  by  all  the  worlds  adored. 

New  glory  Queen  Kausalv£  won 

Reflected  from  her  splendid  son. 

So  Aditi  shone  more  and  more, 

The  Mother  of  the  Gods,  when  she 

The  King  of  the  Immortals3  bore, 

The  thunder-wielding  deity. 


£anta  who  was  of  the  Kshatriya  or  War- 
rior caste  and  an  expiatory  ceremony  was 
necessary  on  account  of  this  violation  of 
the  law. 

1  *  The  poet  no  doubt  intended  to  indi- 
cate the  vernal  equinox  as  the  birthday  of 
Rama.    For  the  month   Chaitra  is  the 
first  of  the  two  months   assigned  to  the 
spring ;    it    corresponds    with   the  latter 
half  of    March   and   the  former  half  of 
April  in  our  division  of  the  year,    Aditi, 
the  mother  of  the  Gods,  is  lady  of  the 
seventh  lunar  mansion   which   is  called 
Pwnarvasu.    The  rive  planets  and  their 
positions  in  the  Zodiac  are  thus  enumer- 
ated   by   both    commentators :    the  Sun 
in  Aries,   Mars  in  Capricorn,  Saturn  in 
Libra,  Jupiter  in  Cancer,  Venus  in  Pisces. 

I  leave  to  astronomers  to  examine 

whether  the  parts  of  the  description  agree 
with  one  another,  and,  if  this  be  the  case, 
thence  to  deduce  the   date.    The  Indians 
place  the  nativity  of  Rama  in  the  confines 
of  thejsecond  age  (treta)  and   the  third 
(dwapara) :  but  it  seems  that  this  should 

be  taken  in  an  allegorical  sense 

We  may  consider  that  the  poet  had  an 
eye   to  the  time   in  which,  immediately 
before  his  own   age,  the   aspects  of    the 
heavenly    bodies  were    such    as  he  has 
described.'    SCHLEGEL. 

2  The  regent  of  the  planet  Jupiter. 

3  Indra= Jupiter  Tonaos. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  b 


The  lotus-eyed,  the  beauteous  boy, 
He  came  tierce  Ravan  to  destroy  ; 
From  half  of  Vishnu's  vigour  born, 
He  came  to  help  the  worlds  forlorn. 
And  Queen  Kaikeyi  bore  a  child 
Of  truest  valour,  Bharat  styled, 
With  every  princely  virtue  blest, 
One  fourth  of  Vishnu  manifest. 
Suniitra  too  a  noble  pair, 
Called  Lakshman  and  ^atrughna,  bare, 
Of  high  emprise*  devoted,  true, 
Sharers  in  Vishnu's  essence  too. 
'Neath  Pushya's"1  mansion,  Mina's2  sign, 
Was  Bharat  born,  of  soul  benign. 
The  sun  had  reached  the  Crab  at  morn 
When  Queen  Suinitra's  babes  were  born, 
What  time  the  moon  had  gone  to  make 
His  nightly  dwelling  with  the  Snake. 
The  high-souled  monarch's  consorts  bore 
At  different  times  those  glorious  four, 
Like  to  himself  and  virtuous,  bright 
As  Proshthapada's3  four-fold  light. 
Then  danced  the  nymphs'  celestial  throng, 

The  minstrels  raised  their  strain  ; 
The  drums  of  heaven  pealed  loud  and  long, 

And  flowers  came  clown  in  rain. 
Within  Ayodhya,  blithe  and  gay, 
All  kept  the  joyous  holiday. 
The  spacious  square,  the  ample  road 
With  mimes  and  dancers  overflowed, 
And  with  the  voice  of  music  rang 
Where  minstrels  played  and  singers  sang, 
And  shone,  a  wonder  to  behold, 
With  dazzling  show  of  gems  and  gold, 
Nor  did  the  king  his  largess  spare, 
For  minstrel,  driver,  bard,  to  share  ; 
Much  wealth  th«  Brahmans  bore  away, 
And  many  thousand  kine  that  day. 

Soon  as  each  babe  was  twelve  days  old 
'Twas  time  the  naming  rite  to  hold, 
When  Saint  Vasishtha,  rapt  with  joy, 
Assigned  a  name  to  every  boy. 
Kama,  to  him  the  high-souled  heir, 
Bharat,  to  him  Kaikeyi  bare  : 
Of  Queen  Suniitra  one  fair  son 
Was  Lakshman,  and  3atrughna4  one. 


1  *  Pushya  is  the  name  of  a  month  ; 
but  here  it  means  the  eighth  mansion. 
The  ninth  is  called  Asleshd.  or  the  snake. 
It  is  evident  from  this  that  Bharat,  though 
his  birth  is  mentioned  before   that  of  the 
twins,    was    the    youngest   of    the    four 
brothers  and  Rama's  junior  by    eleven 
months.'    SCHLEGEL. 

2  A  fish,  the  Zodiacal  sign  Pisces. 

3  One  of  the  constellations,  containing 
stars  in  the  wing  of  Pegasus. 

4  Rama  means  the  Delight  (of  the  World) ; 
Bharat,  the  Supporter;  Lakshman,  the 
Auspicious;  Satruguaa,  th«  Slayer  of '' 


Rama,  his  sire's  supreme  delight, 

Like  some  proud  banner  cheered  his  sight, 

And  to  all  creatures  seemed  to  be 

The  self-existent  deity. 

All  heroes,  versed  in  holy  lore, 

To  all  mankind  great  love  they  bore. 

Fair  stores  of  wisdom  all  possessed, 

With  princely  graces  all  were  blest. 

But  mid  those  youths  of  high  descent, 

With  lordly  light  preeminent, 

Like  the  full  mooo  unclouded,  shone 

Rama,  the  world's  dear  paragon. 

He  best  the  elephant  could  guide,1 

Urge  the  fleet  car,  the  charger  ride  : 

A  master  he  of  bowman's  skill, 

Joying  to  do  his  father's  will. 

The  world's  delight  and  darling,  he 

Loved  Lakshman  best  from  infancy; 

And  Lakshman,  lord  of  lofty  fate, 

Upon  his  elder 'joyed  to  wait, 

Striving  his  second  self  to  please 

With  friendship's  sweet  observances. 

His  limbs  the  hero  ne'er  would  rest 

Unless  the  couch  his  brother  ^pressed; 

Except  beloved  Rama  shared 

He  could  not  taste  the  meal  prepared. 

When  Rama,  pride  of  Reghu's  race, 

Sprang  on  his  steed  to  urge  the  chase, 

Behind  him  Lakshman  loved  to  go 

And  guard  him  with  his  trusty  bow. 

As  Rama  was  to  Lakshman  dear 

More  than  his  life  and  ever  near, 

So  fond  ^atrughna  prized  above 

His  very  life  his  Bharat's  love. 

Illustrious  heroes,  nobly  kind 

In  mutual  love  they  all  combined, 

And  gave  their  royal  sire;delight 

With  modest  grace  and  warrior  might ; 

Supported  by  the  glorious  four 

Shone  Dasaratha  more  and  more, 

As  though,  with  every  guardian}God 
Who  keeps  the  land  and  skies, 

The  Father  of  all  creatures  trod 
The  earth  before  men's  eyes. 


CANTO  XX. 


VI^VAMITRA'S  VISIT. 

Now  Dasaratha's  pious  mind 

Meet  wedlock  for  his  sons  designed; 


1  Schlegel,  in  the  Indische  Bibllothek, 
remarks  that  the  proficiency  of  the  In- 
dians in  this  art  early  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  Alexander's  successors,  and  natives 
of  India  were  so  long  exclusively  employed 
in  this  service  that  the  name  Indian  was 
applied  to  any  elephant-driver,  to  whatever 
country  ke  might  belong, 


Canto 


THE  R  A  MAYAN. 


S3 


With  priests  and  friends  the  king  began 
To  counsel  and  prepare  his  plan. 
Such  thoughts  engaged  his  bosom,  when, 
To  see  Ayodhya's  lord  of  men, 
A  mighty  saint  of  glorious  fame, 
The  hermit  Visvamitra1  came. 
For  evil  fiends  that  roam  by  night 
Disturbed  him  in  each  holy  rite. 
And  in  their  strength  and  frantic  rage 
Assailed  with  witcheries  the  sage. 
He  came  to  seek  the  monarch's  aid 
To  guard  the  rites  the  demons  stayed, 
Unable  to  a  close  to  bring 
One  unpolluted  offering. 
Seeking  the  king  in  this  dire  strait 
He  said  to  those  who  kept  the  gate: 
*  Haste,  warders,  to  your  master  run, 
And  say  that  here  stands  Gadhi's  son.' 

Soon  as  they  heard  the  holy  man, 
To  the  king's  chamber  swift  they  ran 
With  minds  disordered  all,  and  spurred 
To  wildest  zeal  by  what  they  heard. 
On  to  the  royal  hall  they  sped, 
There  stood  and  lowly  bowed  the  head, 
And  made  the  lord  of  men  aware 
That  the  great  saint  was  waiting  there. 

The  king  with  priest  and  peer  arose 
And  ran  the  sage  to  meet, 

As  Indra  from  his  palace  goes 
Lord  Brahma's  self  to  greet. 
When  glowing  with  celestial  light 
The  pious  hermit  was  in  sight, 
The  king,  whose  mien  his  transport  showed, 
The  honoured  gift  for  guests  bestowed. 
Nor  did  the  saint  that  gift  despise, 
Offered  as  holy  texts  advise  ; 
He  kindly  asked  the  earth's  great  king 
How  all  with  him  was  prospering. 
The  son  of  Kusika  bade  him  tell 
If  all  in  town  and  field  were  well, 
All  well  with  friends,  and  kith  and  kin, 
And  royal  treasure  stored  within : 

'Do  all  thy  neighbours  own  thy  sway? 
Thy  foes  confess  thee  yet  ? 

Dost  thou  continue  still  to  pay 

To  Gods  and  men  each  debt  ?  * 
Then  he,  of  hermits  first  and  best, 
Vasishtha  with  a  smile3  addressed, 


1  The  story  of  this  famous  saint  is  given 
at  sufficient  length  in  Cantos  LI— LV. 

This  saint  has  given  his  name  to  the 
district  and  city  to  the  east  of  Benares. 
The  original  name,  preserved  in  a  land- 
grant  on  copper  now  in  the  Museum  of 
the  Benares  College,  has  been  Moslemized 
into  Ghazeepore  (the  City  of  the  Soldier 
martyr). 

*  The  son  of  Kusik  is  Visvamitra. 

*  At  the  recollection  of    their  former 
enmity,  to  be  described  hereafter, 


And  asked  him  of  his  welfare  too, 

Showing  him  honour  as  was  due. 

Then  with  the  sainted  hermit  all 

Went  joyous  to  the  monarch's  hall, 

And  sate  them  down  by  due  degree, 

Each  one,  of  rank  and  dignity. 

Joy  filled  the  noble  prince's  breast 

Who  thus  bespoke  the  honoured  guest : 

'  As  amrit1  by  a  mortal  found, 

As  rain  upon  the  thirsty  ground, 

As  to  an  heirless  man  a  son 

Born  to  him  of  his  precious  one, 

As  gain  of  what  we  sorely  miss, 

As  sudden  dawn  of  mighty  bliss, 

So  is  thy  coming  here  to  me : 

All  welcome,  mighty  Saint,  to  thee. 

What  wish  within  thy  heart  hast  thou? 

If  I  can  please  thee,  tell  me  how. 

Hail,  Saint,  from  whom  all  honours  flow, 

Worthy  of  all  I  can  bestow. 

Blest  is  my  birth  with  fruit  to-day, 

Nor  has  my  life  been  thrown  away. 

I  see  the  best  of  Brahman  race 

And  night  to  glorious  morn  gives  place. 

Thou,  holy  Sage,  in  days  of  old 

Among  the  royal  saints  enrolled, 

Didst,  penance-glorified,  within 

The  Brahman  caste  high  station  win, 

'Tis  meet  and  right  in  many  a  way 

That  I  to  thee  should  honour  pay. 

This  seems  a  marvel  to  mine  eyes  : 

All  sin  thy  visit  purifies  ; 

And  I  by  seeing  thee,  0  Sage, 

Have  reaped  the  fruit  of  pilgrimage. 

Then  say  what  thou  wouldst  have  me  do, 

That  thou  hast  sought  this  interview. 

Favoured  by  thee,  my  wish  is  still, 

O  Hermit,  to  perform  thy  will. 

Nor  needest  thou  at  length  explain 

The  object  that  thy  heart  would  gain. 

Without  reserve  I  grant  it  now  : 

My  deity,  O  Lord,  art  thou.' 

The  glorious  hermit,  far  renowned, 
With  highest  fame  and  virtue  crowned, 
Rejoiced  these  modest  words  to  hear 
Delightful  to  the  mind  and  ear. 

CANTO  XXI. 

TT  T  4  \T  \r  A/T  T  T 1?  A  '  Ct    Q  l>  C1  "C1 0  TT 

VlbVAiVIllliA  o  brUi&Uil. 

The  hermit  heard  with  high  content 
That  speech  so  wondrous  eloquent, 
And  while  each  hair  with  joy  arose,2 

1  The  Indian  nectar  or  drink  of  the  Gods, 

8  Great  joy,   according  to   the    Hindu 

belief,  has  this  effect,  not  causing   each 

particular    hair    to     stand    on    end,   but 

gently  raising  all  the  down  upon  the  body* 


TEE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  /. 


He  thus  made  answer  at  the  close  : 

*  Good  is  thy  speech  0  noble  King, 

And  like  thyself  in  everything. 

So  should  their  lips  be  wisdom -fraught 

Whom  kings  begot,  Vasishtha  taught. 

The  favour  which  I  came  to  seek 

Thou  grantest  ere  my  tongue  can  speak. 

But  let  my  tale  attention  claim, 

And  hear  the  need  for  which  I  came, 

O  King,  as  Scripture  texts  allow, 

A  holy  rite  employs  me  now. 

Two  fiends  who  change  their  forms  at  will 

Impede  that  rite  with  cursed  skill,1 

Oft  when  the  task  is  nigh  complete, 

These  worst  of  fiends  my  toil  defeat, 

Throw  bits  of  bleeding  llesh.  and  o'er 

The  altar  shed  a  stream  of  gore. 

When  thus  the  rite  is  mocked  and  stayed, 

And  all  my  pious  hopes  delayed, 

Cast  down  in  heart  the  spot  I  leave, 

And  spent  with  fruitless  labour  grieve. 

Nor  can  I,  checked  by  prudence,  dare 

Let  loose  my  fury  on  them  there  : 

The  muttered  curse,  the  threatening  word, 

In  such  a  rite  must  ne'er  be  heard. 

Thy  grace  the  rite  from  check  can  free, 

And  yield  the  fruit  I  long  to  see. 

Thy  duty  bids  thee,  King,  defend 

The  suffering  guest,  the  suppliant  friend. 

Give  me  thy  son,  thine  eldest  born, 

Whom  locks  like  raven's  wings  adorn. 

That  hero  youth,  the  truly  brave, 

Of  thee,  O  glorious  King,  I  crave. 

For  he  can  lay  those  demons  low 

Who  mar  my  rites  and  work  me  woe  : 

My  power  shall  shield  the  youth  from  harm, 

And  heavenly  might  shall  nerve  his  arm. 

And  on  my  champion  will  I  shower 

Unnumbered  gifts  of  varied  power, 

Such  gifts  as  shall  ensure  his  fame 

And  spread  through  all  the  worlds  his  name. 

Be  sure  those  fiends  can  never  stand 

Before  the  might  of  llama's  hand, 

And  mid  the  best  and  bravest  none 

Can  slay  that  pair  but  Raghu's  son. 

Entangled  in  the  toils  of  Fate 

Those  sinners,  proud  and  obstinate, 

Are,  in  their  fury  overbold, 

No  match  for  Rama  mighty-souled. 

Nor  let  a  father's  breast  give  way 

Too  far  to  fond  affection's  sway. 

Count  thou  the  fiends  already  slain  : 

My  word  is  pledged,  nor  pledged  in  vain. 

I  know  the  hero  Rama  well 

1  The  R£kshasas,  giants,  or  fiends  who 
are  represented  as  disturbing  the  sacrifice, 
signify  here,  as  often  elsewhere,  merely 
the  savage  tribes  which  placed  themselves 
in  hostile  opposition  to  Br&bmanical  ins- 
titutions, 


In  whom  high  thoughts  and  valour  dwell  ; 

So  does  Vasishtha,  so  do  these 

Engaged  in  lone:  austerities. 

If  thou  would  do  the  righteous  deed, 

And  win  high  fame,  thy  virtue's  meed, 

Fame  that  on  earth  shall  last  and  live, 

To  me,  great  King,  thy  R&ma  give. 

If  to  the  words  that  I  have  said, 

With  Saint  Vasishtha  at  their  head 

Thy  holy  men,  0  King,  agree, 

Then  let  thy  Rama  go  with  me. 

Teu  nights  my  sacrifice  will  last, 

And  ere  the  stated  time  be  past 

Those  wicked  fiends,  those  impious  twain, 

Must  fall  by  wondrous  Rama  slain. 

Let  not  the  hours,  I  warn  thee,  fly, 

Fixt  for  the  rite,  unheeded  by  ; 

Good  luck  have  thou,  0  roval  Chief, 

Nor  give  thy  heart  to  needless  grief.' 

Thus  in  fair  words  with  virtue  fraught 
The  pious  glorious  saint  besought. 
But  the  good  speech  with  poignant  sting 
Pierced  ear  and  bosom  of  the  king, 
Who,  stabbed  with  pangs  top  sharp  to  bear, 
Fell  prostrate  and  lay  fainting  there. 


CANTO  XXII. 
DA^ARATHA'S  SPEECH. 

His  tortured  senses  all  astray, 
Awhle  the  hapless  monarch  lay, 
Then  slowly  gathering  thought  and  Btrengh 
To  Visvamhra  spoke  at  length : 
*  My  son  is  but  a  child,  I  ween  ; 
This  year  he  will  be  just  sixteen. 
How  is  he  fit  for  such  emprise, 
My  darling  with  the  lotus  eyes  T 
A  mghty  army  will  I  bring 
That  calls  me  master,  lord,  and  king, 
And  with  its  countless  squadrons  fight 
Against  these  rovers  of  the  night. 
My  faithful  heroes  skilled  to  wield 
The  arms  of  war  will  take  the  field  ; 
Their  skill  the  demons'  might  may  break: 
Rama,  my  child,  thou  must  not  take. 
I,  even  I,  my  bow  in  hand, 
Will  in  the  van  of  battle  stand, 
And,  while  my  soul  is  left  alive, 
With  the  night-roaming  demons  strive. 
Thy  guarded  sacrifice  shall  be 
Completed,  from  all  hindrance  free. 
Thither  will  I  my  journey  make  : 
Rama,  my  child,  thou  must  not  take, 
A  boy  unskilled,  he  knows  not  yet 
The  bounds  to  strength  and  weakness  set. 
No  match  is  he  for  demon  foes 
Who  magic  arts  to  arms  oppose. 


Canto  XXIII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


0  chief  of  saints,  I  have  no  power, 
Of  Kama  reft,  to  live  one  hour  : 
Mine  aged  heart  at  once  would  break  : 
Rama,  my  child,  thpu  must  not  take. 
Nine  thousand  circling  years  have  tied 
With  all  their  seasons  o'er  my  head, 
And  as  a  hard- won  boon,  0  Sage, 
These  sons  have  come  to  cheer  mine  age. 
My  dearest  love  amid  the  four 

Is  he  whom  first  his  mother  bore, 

Still  dearer  for  his  virtues'  sake : 

Rama,  my  child,  thou  must  not  take. 

But  if,  unmoved  by  all  I  say, 

Tiiou  needs  must  bear  my  son  away, 

Let  me  lead  with  him,  I  entreat, 

A  four-fold  army1  all  complete. 

What  is  the  demons'  might,  O  Sage  ? 

Who  are  they  ?  What  their  parentage  f 

What  is  their  size  ?  What  beings  lend 

Their  power  to  guard  them  and  befriend  ? 

How  can  my  son  their  arts  withstand? 

Or  I  or  all  my  armed  band? 

Tell  me  the  whole  that  I  may  know 

To  meet  in  war  each  evil  foe 

Whom  conscious  might  inspires  with  pride.' 

And  Visvamitra  thus  replied  : 
'  Sprung  from  Pulastya's  race  there  came 
A  giant  known  by  Ravan's  name. 
Once  favoured  by  the  Eternal  Sire 
He  plagues  the  worlds  in  ceaseless  ire, 
For  peerless  power  and  might  renowned, 
By  giant  bands  encompassed  round. 
Visravas  for  his  sire  they  hold, 
His  brother  is  the  Lord  of  Gold. 
King  of  the  giant  hosts  is  he, 
And  worst  of  all  in  cruelty. 
This  Ravan's  dread  commands  impel 
Two  demons  who  in  might  excel, 
Maricha  and  Suvahu  hight, 
To  trouble  and  impede  the  rite.' 

Then  thus  the  king  addressed  the  sage  : 

1  No  power  have  I,  my  lord,  to  wage 
War  with  this  evil-rninded  foe  ; 
Now  pity  on  my  darling  show, 
And  upon  me  of  hapless  fate, 

For  thee  as  God  I  venerate. 
Gods,  spirits,  bards  of  heavenly  birth,2 
The  birds  of  air,  the  snakes  of  earth 
Before  the  might  of  Ravan  quail, 
Much  less  can  mortal  man  avail. 
He  draws,  I  hear,  from  out  the  breast 


1  Consisting  of  horse,  foot,  chariots,  and 
elepnants, 

2  '  The  Gandharvas,  or  heavenly  bards, 
had  originally  a  warlike  character   but 
were  afterwards  reduced  to  the  office  of 
celestial  musicians  cheering  the  banquets 
of  the  Gods.    Dr.  Kuhn   has  shown  their 
identity  with  the  Centaurs  in   name,  ori- 
giu,  and  attribute.'    GORKESIO. 


The  valour  of  the  mightiest, 

No,  ne'er  can  I  with  him  contend, 

Or  with  the  forces  he  may  send. 

How  can  I  then  my  darling  lend, 

Godlike,  unskilled  in  battle?  No, 

I  will  not  let  my  young  child  go. 

Foes  of  thy  rite,  those  mighty  ones, 

Sunda  and  Upasunda's  sons, 

Are  fierce  as  Fate  to  overthrow  : 

1  will  not  let  my  young  child  go. 

Maricha  and  Suvahu  fell 

Are  valiant  and  instructed  well. 

One  of  the  twain  I  might  attack 

With  all  my  friends  their  lord  to  back.' 

CANTO  XXIII. 


VASlSHTHA'S  SPEECH. 

While  thus  the  hapless  monarch  spoke, 
Paternal  love  his  utterance  broke. 
Then  words  like  these  the  saint  returned, 
And  fury  in  his  bosom  burned  : 
*  Didst  thou,  O  King,  a  promise  make, 
And  wishest  now  thy  word  to  break  ? 
A  son  of  Raghu's  line  should  scoru 
To  fail  in  faith,  a  man  forsworn. 
But  if  thy  soul  can  bear  the  shame 
I  will  return  e'en  as  I  came. 
Live  with  thy  sons,  and  joy  be  thine, 
False  scion  of  Kakutstha's  line.' 

As  Visvamitra,  mighty  sage, 
Was  moved  with  this  tempestuous  rage, 
Earth  rocked  and  reeled  throughout  her 

frame, 

And  fear  upon  the  Immortals  came. 
But  Saint  Vasishtha,  wisest  seer, 
Observant  of  his  vows  austere, 
Saw  the  whole  world  convulsed  with  dread, 
And  thus  unto  the  monarch  said  : 
'Thou,  born  of  old  Ikshvaku's  seed, 
Art  Justice'  self  in  mortal  weed. 
Constant  and  pious,  blest  by  fate, 
The  rigjht  thou  must  not  violate. 
Thou,  Raghu's  son,  so  famous  through 
The  triple  world  as  just  and  true, 
Perform  thy  bounden  duty  still, 
Nor  stain  thy  race  by  deed  of  ill. 
If  thou  have  sworn  and  now  refuse 
Thou  must  thy  store  of  merit  lose. 
Then,  Monarch,  let  thy  Kama  go, 
Nor  fear  for  him  the  demon  foe. 
The  fiends  shall  have  no  power  to  hurt 
Him  trained  to  war  or  inexpert, 
Nor  vanquish  him  in  battle  field, 
For  Kusik's  son  the  youth  will  shield. 
He  is  incarnate  Justice,  he 
The  best  of  men  for  bravery, 
Embodied  love  of  penance  drear, 
the  wise  without  a  peer. 


TBE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  I. 


Full  well  he  knows,  great  Kusik's  son, 
The  arms  celestial,  every  one, 
Arms  from  the  Gods  themselves  concealed, 
Par  less  to  other  men  revealed. 
These  arms  to  him,  when  earth  he  swayed, 
Mighty  Krisasva,  pleased,  conveyed, 
Krisasva's  sons  they  are  indeed, 
Brought  forth  by  Daksha's  lovely  seed,1 
Heralds  of  conquest,  strong  and  bold, 
Brilliant,  of  semblance  manifold. 
Jay  a  and  Vijaya,  most  fair, 
And  hundred  splendid  weapons  bare. 
Of,  Jaya,  glorious  as  the  morn, 
First  fifty  noble  sons  were  born, 
Boundless  in  size  yet  viewless  too, 
They  came  the  demons  to  subdue. 
And  fifty  children  also  came 
Of  Vijaya  the  beauteous  dame, 
Sanharas  named,  of  mighty  force, 
Bard  to  assail  or  check  in  course. 
Of  these  the  hermit  knows  the  use, 
And  weapons  new  can  he  produce. 
All  these  the  mighty  saint  will  yield 
To  Rama's  hand,  to  own  and  wield  ; 
And  armed  with  these,  beyond  a  doubt 
Shall  Rama  put  those  fiends  to  rout. 
For  Rama  and  the  people's  sake, 
For  thine  own  good  my  counsel  take, 
Nor  seek,  0  King,  with  fond  delay, 
The  parting  of  thy  son  to  stay.' 


CANTO  XXIV. 


THE  SPELLS. 

Vasishtha  thus  was  speaking  still  : 
The  monarch,  of  his  own  free  will, 
Bade  with  quick  zeal  and  joyful  cheer 
Rama  and  Lakshman  hasten  near. 
Mother  and  sire  in  loving  care 
Sped  their  dear  son  with  rite  and  prayer  : 
Vasishtha  blessed  him  ere  he  went ; 
O'er  his  loved  head  the  father  bent, 
And  then  to  Kusik's  son  resigned 
Rama  with  Lakshman  close  behind. 
Standing  by  Viavamitra's  side, 
The  youthful  hero,  lotus-eyed, 
The  Wind-God  saw,  and  sent  a  breeze 
Whose  sweet  pure  touch  just  waved  the 

trees. 

There  fell  from  heaven  a  flowery  rain, 
And  with  the  song  and  dance  the  strain 
Of  shell  and  tambour  sweetly  blent 
As  forth  the  son  of  Raghu  went. 


1  These  mysterious  animated  weapons 
are  enumerated  in  Cantos  XXIX  and 
XXX.  Daksha  was  the  son  of  Brahma 
and  one  of  the  Prajapatis,  Deniiurgi,  or 
secondary  authors  oJ[  creation, 


The  hermit  led  :  behind  him  came 
The  bow- armed  Rama,  dear  to  fame, 
Whose  locks  were  like  the  raven's  wing  ;! 
Then  Lakshman,  closely  following. 
The  Gods  and  Indra,  filled  with  joy, 
Looked  down  upon  the  royal  boy, 
And  much  they  longed  the  death  to  see 
Of  their  ten-headedenemy.2 
Rama  and  Lakshman  paced  behind 
That  hermit  of  the  lofty  mind, 
As  the  young  Asvins,3  heavenly  pair, 
Follow  Lord  Indra  through  the  air. 
On  arm  and  hand  the  guard  they  wore, 
Quiver  and  bow  and  sword  they  bore  ; 
Two  fire-born  Gods  of  War  seemed  they.* 
He,  Siva's  self  who  led  the  way. 

Upon  fair  Sarju's  southern  shore 
They  now  had  walked  a  league  and  more. 
When  thus  the  sage  in  accents  mild 
To  Rama  said  :  *  Beloved  child, 
This  lustral  water  duly  touch  : 
My  counsel  will  avail  thee  much. 
Forget  not  all  the  words  I  say, 
Nor  let  the  occasion  slip  away. 
Lo,  with  two  spells  I  thee  invest, 
The  mighty  and  the  mightiest. 
O'er  thee  fatigue  shall  ne'er  prevail, 
Nor  age  or  change^thy  limbs  assail. 
Thee  powers  of  darkness  ne'er  shall  smite 
In  tranquil  sleep  or  wild  delight. 
No  one  is  there  in  all  the  laud 
Thine  equal  for  the  vigorous  hand. 


1  Youths  of  the  Kshatriya  class  used 
to  leave  unshorn  the  side  locks  of  their 
hair.  These  were  called  Kdka-pakska, 
or  raven's  wings. 

*  The  Rakshas  or  giant  Ravan,  king  of 
Lanka. 

3  *  The  meaning  of  Asvins  (from  asva  a 
horse,  Persian  asp,  Greek  f/7T7TO£,  Latin 
equus,  Welsh  ech)  is  Horsemen.     They 
were  twin  deities  of  whom  frequent  men- 
tion is  made  in  the  Vedas  and  the  Indian 
myths.    The  Asvins  have  much  in  com- 
mon with  the  Dioscuri  of  Greece,   and 
their  mythical  genealogy  seems  to  indicate 
that  their  origin  was  astronomical.    They 
were,  perhaps,  at  first  the  morning  star 
and  evening  star.    They  are  said  to  be  the 
children  of  the  sun  and  the  nymph  Asvini, 
who  is  one  of  the  lunar  asterisms  personi- 
fied.    In  the  popular  mythology  they  are 
regarded  as  the  physicians  of  the  Gods/ 
GORRESIO. 

4  The  word  Kwndra  (a  young  prince,  a 
Childei  is  also  a  proper  name  of  Skanda 
or  Kartikeya  God  of  War,  the  son  of  §iva 
and  Uma.    The  babe  was  matured  in  the 
lire.    See  Appendix,  Kdrtikeii  Generartw 


Canto  XXV. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


37 


Thou,  when  thy  lips  pronounce  the  spell, 
Shalt  have  no  peer  in  heaven  or  hell. 
None  in  the  world  with  thee shall  vie, 
O  sinless  one,  in  apt  reply, 
In  fortune,  knowledge,  wit,  and  tact, 
Wisdom  to  plan  ana  skill  to  act. 
Tliis  double  science  take,  and  gain 
Glorv  that  shall  for  aye  remain. 
Wisdom  and  judgment  spring  from  each 
Of  these  fair  spells  whose  use  I  teach. 
Hunger  and  thirst  unknown  to  thee, 
High  in  the  worlds  thy  rank  shall  be. 
For  these  two  spells  with  might  endued, 
Are  the  Great  Father's  heavenly  brood, 
And  thee,  0  Chief,  may  fitly  grace, 
Thou  glory  of  Kakutstha's  race. 
Virtues  which  none  can  match  are  thine, 
Lord,  from  thy  birth,  of  gifts  divine, 
And  now  these  spells  of  might  shall  cast 
Fresh  radiance  o'er  the  gifts  thou  hast.' 
Then  Kama  duly  touched  the  wave, 

Raised  suppliant  hands,  bowed  low  his 

head, 
And  took  the  spells  the  hermit  gave, 

Whose  soul  on  contemplation  fed. 
From  him   whose  might  these  gifts  en- 
hanced, 

A  brighter  beam  of  glory  glanced  : 
So  shines  in  all  his  autumn  blaze 
The  Day-God  of  the  thousand  rays. 
The  hermit's  wants  those  youths  supplied, 
As  pupils  use  to  holy  guide. 
And  tnen  the  night  in  sweet  content 
On  Sarju's  pleasant  bank  they  spent, 

CANTO  XXV. 


THE  HERMITAGE  OF  LOVE. 

Soon  as  appeared  the  morning  light 
Up  rose  the  mighty  anchorite, 
And  thus  to  youthful  Rama  said, 
Who  lay  upon  his  leafy  bed  : 
*High  fate  is  hers  who  calls  thee  son  : 

Arise,  'tis  break  of  day  ; 
Rise,  Chief,  and  let  those  rites  be  done 

Due  at  the  morning's  ray.'1 
At  that  great  sage's  high  behest 

Up  sprang  the  princely  pair, 
To  bathing  rites  themselves  addressed, 

And  breathed  the  holiest  prayer. 
Their  morning  task  completed,  they 

To  Visvamitra  came 

1  *  At  the  rising  of  the  sun  as  well  as  at 
noon  certain  observances,  invocations, 
and  prayers  were  prescribed  which  might 
under  no  circumstances  be  omitted.  One 
of  the -,e  observances  was  the  recitation  of 
the  Savitri,  a  Vedic  hymn  to  the  Sun  of 
wonderful  beauty,'  GOKRESIO. 


That  store  of  holy  works,  to  pay 

The  worship  saints  may  claim. 
Then  to  the  hallowed  spot  they  went 

Along  fair  Sarju's  side 
Where  mix  her  waters  confluent 

With  three -pathed  Ganga's  tide.1 
There  was  a  sacred  hermitage 

Where  saints  devout  of  mind 
Their  lives  through  many  a  lengthened  ago 

To  penance  had  resigned. 
That  pure  abode  the  princes  eyed 

With  unrestrained  delight, 
And  thus  unto  the  saint  they  cried, 

Rejoicing  at  the  sight : 
'  Whose  is  that  hermitage  we  see  ? 

Who  makes  his  dwelling  there? 
Full  of  desire  to  hear  are  we  : 

O  Saint,  the  truth  declare.' 
The  hermit  smiling  made  reply 

To  the  two  boys'  request : 
1  Hear,  Rama,  who  in  days  gone  by 

This  calm  retreat  possessed. 
Kandarpa  in  apparent  form. 

Called  Kama2  by  the  wise, 
Dared  Uma's3  new-wed  lord  to  storm 

And  make  the  God  his  prize, 
'Gainst  Sthanu's4  self,  on  rites  austere 

And  vow*  intent,6  they  say, 
His  bold  rash  hand  he  dared  to  rear, 

Though  Sthanu  cried,  Away  ! 
But  the  God's  eye  with  scornful  glare 

Fell  terrible  on  him, 
Dissolved  the  shape  that  was  so  fair 


1  Trrpathaga,  Three -path- go,  flowing 
in  heaven,  on  earth,  and  under  the  earth, 
See  Canto  XLV. 

*  Tennyson's  *  Indian  Cama,'  the  God 
of  Love,  known  also  by  many  other  names, 

3  Umd,  or   Pdrvati,  was  daughter  of 
Himalaya.   Monarch  of  mountains,  and 
wife  of  £iva.      See  Kalidasa's  Eumdra 
SambJiava,  or  Birth  of  the  War-  God. 

4  Sthdnu.    The  Unmoving  one,  a  name 
of  $iva. ' 

5  '  The  practice  of  austerities,  voluntary 
tortures,  and  mortifications  was  anciently 
universal  in  India,  and  was  held  by  the 
Indians  to  be  of  immense  efficacy.    Hence 
they  mortified  themselves  to  expiate  sing, 
to   acquire  merits,  and  to  obtain  super- 
human gifts  and  powers  ;  the  Gods  them- 
selves sometimes  exercised  themselves  in 
such  austerities,  either  to  raise  themselves 
to  greater    power  and    grandeur,  or    to 
counteract  the  austerities  of  man  which 
threatened  to   prevail  over  them   and  to 
deprive  them  of  heaven..... Such  aus- 
terities were  called  in  India  tapas  'burn- 
ing ardour,  fervent  devotion)  and  he  who 
practised  them  tapasvinS    GOKRBSIO, 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  I. 


And  burnt  up  every  limb. 
Since  the  great  God's  terrific  rage 

Destroyed  his  form  and  frame, 
Kama  iu  each  succeeding  age 

Has  borne  Ananga's1  name. 
So,  where  his  lovely  form  decayed, 

This  land  is  Anga  styled  : 
Sacred  to  him  of  old  this  shade, 

And  hermits  undefiled. 
Here  Scripture-talking  elders  sway 

Each  sense  with  firm  control, 
And  penance-rites  have  washed  away 

All  sin  from  every  soul. 
One  night,  fair  boy,  we  here  will  spend, 

A  pure  stream  on  each  hand, 
And  with  to-morrow's  light  will  bend 

Our  steps  to  yonder  strand. 
Here  let  us  bathe,  and  free  from  stain 

To  that  pure  grove  repair, 
Sacred  to  Kama,  and  remain 

One  night  in  comfort  there.' 
With  penance'  far-discerning  eye 

The  saintly  men  beheld 
Their  coming,  and  with  transport  high 

Each  holy  bosom  swelled. 
To  Kusik's  son  the  gift  they  gave 

That  honoured  guest  should  greet, 
Water  they  brought  his  feet  to  lave, 

And  showed  him  honour  meet. 
Rama  and  Lakshman  next  obtained 

In  due  degree  their  share. 
Then  with  sweet  talk  the  guests  remained, 

And  charmed  each  listener  there. 
The  evening  prayers  were  duly  said 

With  voices  calm  and  low  : 
Then  on  the  ground  each  laid  his  head 

And  slept  till  morning's  glow. 

CANTO  XXVI. 


THE  FOREST  OF  TADAKA. 

When  the  fair  light  of  morning  rose 
The  princely  tamers  of  their  foes 
Followed,  his  morning  worship  o'er, 
The  hermit  to  the  river's  shore. 
The  high-souled  men  with  thoughtful  care 
A  pretty  barge  had  stationed  there. 
All  cried,  *  O  lord,  this  barge  ascend, 
And  with  thy  princely  followers  bend 
To  yonder  side  thy  prosperous  way 
With  naught  to  check  thee  or  delay.* 
Nor  did  the  saint  their  rede  reject : 
He  bade  farewell  with  due  respect, 
And  crossed,  attended  by  the  twain, 
That  river  rushing  to  the  main. 
When  now  the  bark  was  half  way  o'er, 
Rama  and  Lakshman  heard  the  roar, 


The  Bod'dets  one. 


That  louder  grew  and  louder  yet, 
Of  waves  by  dashing  waters  met. 
Then  Rama  asked  the  mighty  seer  : 

*  What  is  the  tumult  that  I  hear 
Of  waters  cleft  in  mid  career  ? ' 
Soon  as  the  speech  of  Rama,  stirred 
By  deep  desire  to  know,  he  heard, 
The  pious  saint  began  to  tell 

What  caused  the  waters'  roar  and  swell : 
'  On  high  Kailasa's  distant  hill 

There  lies  a  noble  lake 
Whose  waters,  born  from  Brahma's  will, 

The  name  of  Manas1  take. 
Thence,  hallowing  where'er  they  flow, 

The  streams  of  Sarju  fall, 
And  wandering  through  the  plains  below 

Embrace  Ayodhy&'s  wall. 
Still,  still  preserved  in  Sarju's  name 

Sarovar's*  fame  we  trace. 
The  flood  of  Brahma  whence  she  came 

To  run  her  holy  race. 
To  meet  great  Ganga  here  she  hies 

With  tributary  wave  : 
Hence  the  loud  roar  ye  hear  arise, 

Of  floods  that  swell  and  rave. 
Here,  pride  of  Ragbu's  line,  do  thou 
In  humble  adoration  bow.' 

He  spoke.    The  princes  both  obeyed, 
And  reverence  to  each  river  paid.3 
They  reached  the  southern  shore  at  last, 
And  gaily  on  their  journey  passed. 
A  little  space  beyond  there  stood 
A  gloomy  awe-inspiring  wood. 
The  monarch's  noble  son  began 
To  question  thus  the  holy  man  : 

*  Whose  gloomy  forest  meets  mine  eye 
Like  some  vast  cloud  that  fills  the  sky  ? 
Pathless  and  dark  it  seems  to  be, 
Where  birds  in  thousands  wander  free  ; 
Where  shrill  cicalas'  cries  resound, 


1  *A  celebrated  lake  regarded  in  India 
as  sacred.    It  lies  in  the  lofty  region  be- 
tween the  northern  highlands  of  the  Him- 
alayas  and  mount  Kailaaa,  the  region  of 
the  sacred  lakes.    The  poem,  following 
the  popular  Indian  belief,  makes  the  river 
Sarayu(nowSarju)flow  from  the  Manasa 
lake;  the  sources  of  the  river  are  a  little  to 
the  south  about  a  day's  journey  from  the 
lake.    See  Lassen,  Indische   Alterthums- 
kunde,  page  34.'  GORRESIO.  Ma nas  means 
mind  ;  mdnasa,  mental,  mind-born, 

2  tiarovar  means  best  of  lakes.    This  is 
another  of  the  poet's  fanciful  etymologies. 

3  The  confluence  of  two  or  more  rivers 
is  often  a  venerated  and  holy  place.    The 
most    famous  is    Prayag  or    Allahabad, 
where  the  Sarasvati  bv  an  underground 
course  is  believed  to  join  fche  Jumna  and 
the  Ganges, 


Canto  XXVII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


And  fowl  of  dismal  note  abound, 
Lioo,  rhinoceros,  and  bear, 
Boar,  tiger,  elephant,  are  there, 

There  shrubs  and  thorns  run  wild  : 
Dhao,  Sal,  Bignonia,  Bel,1  are  found, 
And  every  tree  that  grows  on  ground  : 

How  is  the  forest  styled  ? ' 
The  glorious  saint  this  answer  made  : 
'  Dear  child  of  Kaghu,  hear 
Who  dwells  within  the  horrid  shade 

That  looks  so  dark  and  drear. 
Where  now  is  wood,  long  ere  this  day 

Two  broad  and  fertile  lands, 
Malaja  and  Karusha  lay. 

Adorned  by  heavenly  hands. 
Here,  mourning  friendship's  broken  ties, 
Lord  Indra  of  the  thousand  eyes 
Hungered  and  sorrowed  many  a  day, 
His  brightness  soiled  with  mud  and  elay, 
When  in  a  storm  of  passion  he 
Had  slain  his  dear  friend  Namuchi. 
Then  came  the  Gods  and  saints  who  bore 
Their  golden  pitchers  brimming  o'er 
With  holy  streams  that  banish  stain, 
Arid  bathed  Lord  Indra  pure  again. 
When  in  this  land  the  God  was  freed 
From  spot  and  stain  of  impious  deed 
For  that  his  own  dear  friend  he  slew, 
High  transport  thrilled  his  bosom  through. 
Then  in  his  joy  the  lands  he  blessed, 
And  gave  a  boon  they  long  possessed: 

*  Because  these  fertile  lands  retain 
The  washings  of  the  blot  and  stain,' 

'Twas  thus  Lord  Indra  sware, 

*  Malaja  and  Karusha's  name 
Shall  celebrate  with  deathless  fame 

My  malady  and  care.'2 
'  So  be  it',  all  the  Immortals  cried, 

When  Indra's  speech  they  heard, 
And  with  acclatm  they  ratified 

The  names  his  lips  conferred. 
Long  time,  O  victor  of  thy  foes, 
These  happy  lands  had  sweet  repose, 
And  higher  still  in  fortune  rose. 
At  length  a  spirit,  loving  ill, 
Tadaka,  wearing  shapes  at  will, 


1  The  botanical  names  of  the  trees 
mentioned  in  the  text  are  Grislea  Tor- 
mentosa,  Shorea  Robusta,  Echites  Antidy- 
senterica,  Bignonia  Suaveolens,  (Egle  Mar- 
melos,  and  Diospyrus  Glutinosa.  1  have 
omitted  the  Kutaja  (Echites)  and  the 
Tinduka  (Diospyrus). 

*  Here  we  meet  with  a  fresh  myth  to 
account  for  the  name  of  these  regions 
Malaja  is  probably  a  non-Aryan  word 
signifying  a  hilly  country:  taken  as  a 
Sanskrit  compound  it  means  sprung  from 
defilement.  The  word  Karusha  appears  to 
have  a  somewhat  similar  meaning. 


Whose  mighty  strength,  exceeding  vast, 
A  thousand  elephants,  surpassed, 
Was  to  fierce  Sunda,  lord  arid  head 
Of  all  the  demon  armies,  wed. 
From  her,  Lord  Indra's  peer  in  might 
Giant  Maricha  sprang  to  light: 
And  she,  a  constant  plague  and  pest, 
These  two  fair  realms  has  long  distressed, 
Now  dwelling  in  her  dark  abode 
A  league  away  she  bars  the  road : 
And  we,  O  Rama,  hence  must  go 
Where  lies  the  forest  of  the  foe. 
Now  on  thine  own  right  arm  rely, 

And  my  command  obey  : 
Smite  the  foul  monster  that  she  die, 

And  take  the  plague  away. 
To  reach  this  country  none 'may  dare, 

Fallen  from  its  old  estate, 
Which  she,  whose  fury  naught  can  bear, 

Has  left  so  desolate. 
And  now  my  truthful  tale  is  told 

How  with  accursed  sway 
The  spirit  plagued  thia  wood  of  old, 

And  ceases  not  to-day.' 


CANTO  XXVII. 
THE   BIRTH  OF  TADAKA'. 

When  thus  the  sage  without  a  peer 
Had  closed  that  story  strange  to  hear, 
Rama  again  the  saint  addressed 
To  set  one  lingering  doubt  at  rest  : 

*  O  holy  man/ 'tis  said  by  all 

That  spirits'  strength  is  weak  and  small  ; 
How  can  she  match,  of  power  so  sligut, 
A  thousand  elephants  in  might  1 ' 
And  Visvamitra  thus  replied 
To  Raghu's  son  the  glorified: 

*  Listen,  and  I  will  tell  thee  how 

She  gained  the  strength  that  arms  her  now. 

A  mighty  spirit  lived  of  yore  ; 

Suketu  was  the  name  he  bore. 

Childless  was  he,  and  free  from  crime 

In  rites  austere  he  passed  his  time. 

The  mighty  Sire  was  pleased  to  show 

His  favour,  and  a  child  bestow, 

Tadaka  named,  most  fair  to  see. 

A  pearl  among  the  maids  was  ahe, 

And  matched,f  or  such  was  Brahma's  dower, 

A  thousand  elephants  in  power. 

Nor  would  the  Eternal  Sire,  although 

The  spirit  longed,  a  son  bestow 

That  maid  in  beauty's  youthful  pride 

Was  given  to  Sunda  for  a  bride. 

Her  son,  Maricha  was  his  name. 

A  giant,  through  a  curse,  became. 

She  widowed,  dared  with  him  molest 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


Agasfya,1  of  all  saints  the  best. 
Inflamed  with  hunger's  wildest  rage, 
Roaring  she  rushed  upon  the  sage. 
When  the  great  hermit  saw  her  near, 
On  speeding  in  her  fierce  career, 
He  thus  pronounced  Maricha's  doom  : 
'A  giant's  form  and  shape  assume.' 
And  then,  by  mighty  anger  swayed, 
On  T^dakkthis  curse  he  laid  : 
'  Thy  present  form  and  semblance  quit, 
And  wear  a  shape  thy  mood  to  fit  ; 
Changed  form  and  feature  by  my  ban, 
A  fearful  thing  that  feeds  on  man.' 

She.  by  his  awful  curse  possessed, 
And  mad  with  rage  that  fills  her  breast, 
Has  on  this  land  her  fury  dealt 
Where  once  the  saint  Agastya  dwelt. 
Go,  R£ma,  smite  this  monster  dead, 
The  wicked  plague,  of  power  so  dread, 
And  further  by  this  deed  of  thine 
The  good  of  Brahmans  and  of  kine, 
Thy  hand  alone  can  overthrow, 
In  all  the  worlds,  this  impious  foe. 
!Nor  let  oompassion  lead  thy  mind 
To  shrink  from  blood  of  womankind  ; 
A  monarch's  son  must  ever  count 
The  people's  welfare  paramount. 
And  whether  pain  or  joy  he  deal 
Dare  all  things  for  his  subjects'  weal  • 
Yea,  if  the  deed  bring  praise  or  guilt, 
If  life  be  saved  or  blood  be  spilt  : 
Such,  through  all  time,  should  be  the  care 
Of  those  a  kingdom's  weight  who  bear. 
Slay,  Rama,  slay  this  impious  fiend. 
For  by  no  law  her  life  is  screened. 
So  Manthara,  as  bards  have  told, 
Virochan's  child,  was  slain  of  old 
By  Indra,  when  in  furious  hate 
She  longed  the  earth  to  devastate. 
So  Kavya's  mother,  Bhrigu's  wife, 
Who  loved  her  husband  as  her  life, 
When  Indra's  throne  she  sought  to  gain, 
By  Vishnu's  hand  of  yore  was  slain. 
By  these  a»d  hsgh-souled  kings  beside, 
Struck  down,  have  lawless  women  died/ 

>  'This  is  one  of  those  indefinable 
mythic  personages  who  are  found  in  the 
ancient  traditions  of  many  nations,  and 
in  whom  cosmogonical  or  astronomical 
notions  are  generally  figured.  Thus  it  is 
related  of  Agastya  'that  the  Vindhyan 
mountains  prostrated  themselves  before 
him;  and  yet  the  snme  Agastya  is  believed  to 
be  regent  of  the  star  Canopus.'  GORRESIO. 

He  will  appear  as  the  friend  and  helper 
of  R&ma  farther  ®n  in  the  poem. 


CANTO  XXVIII. 


THE  DEATH  OF  TA'DAKA'. 

Thus  spoke  the  saint  Each  vigorous  word 
The  noble  monarc-h's  offspring  heard, 
And,  reverent  hands  together  laid, 
His  answer  to  the  hermit  made  : 
'  My  sire  and  mother  bade  me  aye 
Thy  word,  O  mighty  Saint,,  obey. 
So  will  I,  O  most  glorious,  kill 
This  Tadaka  who  joys  in  ill, 
For  such  my  sire's*  and  such  thy  will* 
To  aid  with  mine  avenging  hand 
The  Brahmans,  kine, and  all  the  land- 
Obedient,  heart  and  soul,  I  stand.' 

Thus  spoke  the  tamer  of  the  foe, 
An-d  by  the  middle  grasped  his  bo\v. 
Strongly  he  drew  the  sounding  string 
That  made  the  distant  welkin  ring. 
Scared  by  the  mighty  clang  the  deer 
That  roamed  the  forest  shook  with  fear; 
And  Tadaka,  the  echo  heard, 
And  rose  in  haste  from  slumber  stirred. 
In  wild  amaze,  her  soul  aflame 
With  fury  toward  the  spat  she  came. 
When  that  foul  shape  of  evil  mien 
And  stature  vast  as  e'er  was  seen 
The  wrathful  son  of  Raghu  eyed, 
He  thus  unto  his  brother  cried: 
'  Her  dreadful  shape,  O  Lakshman,  see., 
A  form  to  shudder  at  and  flee. 
The  hideous  monster's  very  vie-w 
Would  cleave  a  timid  heart  in  two. 
Behold  the  demon  hard  to  smite, 
Defended  by  her  magic  might. 
My  hand  shall  stay  her  course  to-day, 
And  shear  her  nose  and  ears  away. 
No  heart  have  I  her  life  to  take  : 
[  spare  it  for  her  sex's  sake. 
My  will  is  but,  with  minished  force, 
To  check  her  in  her  evil  course.' 
While  thus  he  spoke,  by  rage  impelled 

Roaring  as  she  came  nigh, 
The  fiend  her  course  at  Rama  held 

With  huge  arms  tossed  on  high, 
Her,  rushing  on,  the  seer  assailed 

With  a  loud  cry  of  hate  ; 
And  thus  the  sons  of  Raghu  hailed  : 

'  Fight,  and  be  fortunate/ 
Then  from  the  earth  a  horrid  cloud' 

Of  dust  the  demon  raised, 
And  for  awhile  in  darkling  shroud 

Wrapt  Raghu's  sons  amazed. 
Then  calling  on  her  magic  power 

The  fearful  fight  to  wage, 
She  smote  him  with  a  stony  shower,. 

Till  Rama  burned  with  rage. 
Then  pouring  forth  kis  arrowy  raio 

That  stony  flood  to  sfcay, 


Canto  XXIX. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


41 


With  winged  darts,  as  she  charged  amain, 

He  shore  her  hands  away. 
As  Tadaka  still  thundered  near 

Thus  maimed  by  Rama's[blows, 
Lakshman  in  fury  severed  sheer 

The  monster's  ears  and  nose. 
Assuming  by  her  magic  skill 

A  fresh  and  fresh  disguise, 
She  tried  a  thousand  shapes  at  will, 

Then  vanished  from  their  eyes. 
When  Gadhi'sson  of  high  renown 
Still  saw  the  stony  rain  pour  down 
Upon  each  princely  warrior's  head, 
With  words  of  wisdom  thus  he  said  : 
'  Enough  of  mercy,  llama,  lest 
This  sinful  evil-working  pest, 
Disturber  of  each  holy  rite, 
Repair  by  magic  arts  her  might. 
Without  delay  the  riend  should  die, 
For,  see,  the  twilight  hour  is  nigh. 
And  at  the  joints  of  night  and  day 
Such  giant  foes  are  hard  to  slay.' 
Then  llama,  skilful  to  direct 

His  arrow  to  the  sound, 
With  shafts  the  mighty  demon  checked 

Who  rained  her  stones  around. 
She  sore  impeded  and  beset 
By  Rama  and  his  arrowy  net, 
Though  skilled  in  guile  and  magic  lore, 
Hushed  on  the  brothers  with  a  roar. 
Deformed,  terrific,  murderous,  dread, 
Swift  as  the  levin  on  she  sped, 
Like  cloudy  pile  in  autumn's  sky, 
Lifting  her  two  vast  arms  on  high, 
When  Rama  smote  her  with  a  dart, 
Shaped  like  a  crescent,  to  the  heart. 
Sore  wounded  by  the  shaft  that  came 
With  lightning  speed  and  surest  aim, 
Blood  spouting  from  her  mouth  and  side, 
She  fell  upon  the  earth  and  died. 
Soon  as  the  Lord  who  rules  the  sky 
Saw  the  dread  monster  lifeless  lie, 
He  called  aloud,  Well  done  !  well  done  ! 
And  the  Gods  honoured  Raghu's  son. 
Standing  in  heaven  the  Thousand-eyed, 
With  all  the  Immortals,  joying  cried  : 
«  Lift  up  thine  eyes,  O  Saint,  and  see 
The  Gods  and  Indra  nigh  to  thee. 
This  deed  of  Rama's  boundless  might 
Has  tilled  our  bosoms  with  delight. 
Now,  for  our  will  would  have  it  so, 
To  Raghu's  son  some  favour  show. 
Invest  him  with  the  power  which  naught 
But  penance  gains  and  holy  thought, 
Those  heavenly  arms  on  him  bestow 
To  thee  entrusted  long  ago 
By  great  Krisasva  best  of  kings, 
Son  of  the  Lord  of  living  things. 
More  tit  recipient  none  can  be 
Than  he  who  joys  in  following  thee  ; 


And  for  our  sakes  the  monarch's  seed 
Has  yet  to  do  a  mighty  deed.' 
He  spoke  ;  and  all  the  heavenly  train 

lejoicing  sought  their  homes  again, 
While  honour  to  the  saint  they  paid. 

Then  came  the  evening's  twilight  shade, 

Che  best  of  hermits  overjoyed 

Do  know  the  monstrous  fiend  destroyed, 

lislips  on  Rama's  forehead  pressed, 
And  thus  the  conquering  chief  addressed: 

O  Rama  gracious  to  the  sight, 

ETere  will  we  pass  the  present  night, 
And  with  the  morrow's  earliest  ray 

3end  to  my  hermitage  our  way,' 
The  son  of  Dasaratha  heard, 

Delighted,  Visvamitra's  word, 
And  as  he  bade,  that  night  he  spent 
In  Tadaka's  wild  wood,  content. 
And  the  grove  shone  that  happy  day, 

Freed  from  the  curse  that  on  it  lay, 
Like  Chaitraratha1  fair  and  gay. 

CANTO  XXIX. 


THE  CELESTIAL  ARMS. 

That  night  they  slept  and  took  their  rest; 
And  then  the  mighty  saint  addressed, 
With  pleasant  smile  and  accents  mild 
These  words  to  Raghu's  princely  child  : 
'  Well  pleased  am  I.    High  fate  be  thine, 
Thou  scion  of  a  royal  line. 
Now  will  I,  for  I  love  thee  so, 
All  heavenly  arms  on  thee  bestow, 
Victor  with  these,  whoe'er  oppose, 
Thy  hand  shall  conquer  all  thy  foes, 
Though  Gods  and  spirits  of  the  air, 
Serpents  and  fiends,  the  conflict  dare. 
I'll  give  thee  as  a  pledge  of  love 
The  mystic  arms  they  use  above, 
For  worthy  thou  to  have  revealed 
The  weapons  I  have  learnt  to  wield. * 


1  The  famous  pleasure -garden   of   Ku- 
vera  the  God  of  Wealth. 

2  '  The  whole   of  this    Canto  together 
with  the  following  one,  regards  the  belief, 
formerly  prevalent  in  India,  that  by  virtue 
of  certain  spells,  to  be  learnt   and  mutter- 
ed,  secret    knowledge    and   superhuman 
powers  might  be  acquired.    To   this   the 
poet  has  already  alluded   in   Canto   xxiii 
These  incorporeal  weapons  are  partly  re- 
presented according    to  the    fashion    o1 
those  ascribed  to  the  Gods  and  the  differ 
ent  orders  of  demi-gods,   partly   are  th< 
mere  creations  of  fancy;  and  it  would  no 
be  easy  to  say  what  idea  the  poet  had  o 
them  in  his  own  mind,  or  what   powers  h 
meant  to  assign  to  each.'    SCHLEGEL. 


42 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


First,  son  of  Raghu,  shall  be  thine 
The  arm  of  Vengeance,  strong,  divine  : 
The  arm  of  Fate,  the  arm  of  Right, 
And  Vishnu's  arm  of  awful  might : 
That,  before  which  no  foe  can  stand, 
The  thunderbolt  of  Indra's  hand  ; 
And  Diva's  trident,  sharp  and  dread, 
And  that  dire  weapon  Brahma's  Head. 
And  two  fair  clubs,  O  royal  child, 
One  Charmer  and  one  Pointed  styled 
With  flame  of  lambent  fire  aglow, 
On  thee,  O  Chieftain,  I  bestow. 
And  Fate's  dread  net  and  Justice1  noose 
That  none  may  conquer,  for  thy  use  : 
And  the  great  cord,  renowned  of  old, 
Which  Varun  ever  loves  to  hold. 
Take  these  two  thunderbolts,  which  I 
Have  got  for  thee,  the  Moist  and  Dry. 
Here  Siva's  dart  to  thee  I  yield, 
And  that  which  Vishnu  wont  to  wield. 
I  give  to  thee  the  arm  of  Fire, 
Desired  by  all  and  named  the  Spire. 
To  thee  1  grant  the  Wind-God's  dart, 
Earned  Crusher,  O  thou  pure  of  heart. 
This  arm,  the  Horse's  Head,  accept, 
And  this,  the  Curlew's  Bill  yclept, 
And  these  two  spears,  the  best  e'er  flew, 
Named  the  Invincible  and  True. 
And  arms  of  fiends  1  make  thine  own, 
Skull-wreath  and  mace  that  smashes  bone. 
And  Joyous,  which  the  spirits  bear, 
Great  weapon  of  the  sons  of  air. 
Brave  offspring  of  the  best  of  lords, 
1  give  thee  now  the  Gem  of  swords, 
And  offer  next,  thine  hand  to  arm, 
The  heavenly  bards'  beloved  charm. 
Now  with  two  arms  1  thee  invest 
Of  never-ending  Sleep  and  Rest, 
With  weapons  of  the  Sun  and  Rain, 
And  those  that  dry  and  burn  amain  ; 
And  strong  Desire  with  conquering  touch, 
The  dart  that  Kama  prizes  much. 
I  give  the  arm  of  shadowy  powers . 
T  lat  bleeding  flesh  of  men  devours. 
I  give  the  arms  the  God  of  Gold 
And  giant  fiends  exult  to  hold. 
This  smites  the  foe  in  battle-strife, 
And  takes  his  fortune,  strength,  and  life. 
I  give  the  arms  called  False  and  True, 
'And  great  Illusion  give  I  too  ; 
The  hero's  arm  called  Strong  and  Bright 
That  spoils  the  foeman's  strength  in  fight. 
I  give  thee  as  a  priceless  boon 
The  Dew,  the  weapon  of  the  Moon, 
And  add  the  weapon,  deftly  planned, 
That  strengthens  Visvakarma's  hand. 
The  Mortal  dart  whose  point  is  chill, 
And  Slaughter,  ever  sure  to  kill ; 
All  these  and  other  arms,  for  thou 
Art  very  dear,  I  give  thee  now. 
Keceive  these  weapons  from  my  hand, 


Son  of  the  noblest  in  the  land.' 

Facing  the  east,  the  glorious  saint 
Pure  from  all  spot  of  earthly  taint, 
To  Rama,  with  delighted  mind, 
That  noble  host  of  spells  consigned. 
He  taught  the  arms,  whose  lore  is  won 
Hardly  by  Gods,  to  Raghu's  son. 
He  muttered  low  the  spell  whose  call 
Summons  those  arms  and  rules  them  all, 
And,  each  in  visible  form  and  frame, 
Before  the  monarch's  son  they  came. 
They  stood  and  spoke  in  reverent  guise 
To  Kama  with  exulting  cries  : 
*  O  noblest  child  of  Raghu,  see, 
Thy  ministers  and  thralls  are  we,' 

With  joyful  heart  and  eager  hand 
Rama  received  the  wondrous  band, 
And  thus  with  words  of  welcome  cried: 
'Aye  present  to  my  will  abide.' 
Then  hasted  to  the  saint  to  pay 
Due  reverence,  and  pursued  his  way. 


CxlNTO  XXX. 


THE  MYSTERIOUS   POWERS.* 

Pure,  with  glad  cheer  and  joyful  breast, 
Of  those  mysterious  arms  possessed, 
Rama,  now  passing  on  his  way, 
Thus  to  the  saint  began  to  say  : 

*  Lord  of  these  mighty  weapons,  I 

Can  scarce  be   harmed  by  Gods  on  high  ; 

Now,  best  of  saints,  I  long  to  gain 

The  powers  that  can  these  arms  restrain.' 

Thus  spoke  the  prince.    The  sage  austere, 

True  to  his  vows,  from  evil  clear, 

Called  forth  the  names   of  those  great 

charms 
Whose  powers  restrain  the  deadly  arms. 

*  Receive  thou  True  and  Truly-famed, 
And  Bold  and  Fleet :  the  weapons  named 

i  'In  Sanskrit  Sanhdra,  a  word  which 
has  various  significations  but  the  primary 
meaning  of  which  is  the  act  of  seizing.  A 
magical  power  seems  to  be  implied  of  em- 
ploying the  weapons  when  and  where 
required.  The  remarks  I  have  made  on 
the  preceding  Canto  apply  with  still 
greater  force  to  this.  The  M^S.  greatly 
vary  in  the  enumeration  of  these  Sanhdras, 
and  it  is  not  surprising  that  copyists  have 
incorrectly  written  the  names  which  they 
did  not  well  understand.  The  commen- 
tators throw  no  light  upon  the  subject.' 
SCHLEGEL.  I  have  taken  the  liberty  o£ 
omitting  four  of  these  which  Schlegel 
translates  'Scleromphalum,  Euomphalum, 
Centiventrem,  and  Chrysomphalum,' 


Canto  XXXT. 


THE  RlMAYAN. 


43 


Warder  and  Progress,  swift  of  pace, 
Averted-head  and  Drooping-face; 
The  8een,  and  that  which  Secret  flies  ; 
The  weapon  of  the  thousand  eyes  ; 
Ten-headed,  and  the  Hundred-faced, 
Star-gazer  and  the  Layer- waste  : 
The  Omen-bird,  the  Pure-from-sp>t, 
The  pair  that  wake  and  slumber  not :' 
The  Fiendish,  that  which  shakes  amain, 
The  Strong-of-Hand,  the  Rich-in-Gain  : 
The  Guardian,  and  the  Close-allied, 
The  Gaper,  Love,  and  Golden-side  : 
O  Raghu's  son  receive  all  these, 
Bright  ones  that  wear  what  forms  they 

^please ; 

Krisasva's  mystic  sons  are  they, 
And  worthy  thou  their  might  to  sway.' 
With  joy  the  pride  of  Raghu's  race 
Keceived  the  hermit's  proffered  grace, 
Mysterious  arms,  to  check  and  stay, 
Or  smite  the  foeman  in  the  fray. 
Then,  all  with  heavenly  forms  endued, 
Nigh  came  the  wondrous  multitude. 
Celestial  in  their  bright  attire 
Some  shone  like  coals  of  burning  fire  ; 
Some  were  like  clouds  of  dusky  smoke  ; 
And  suppliant  thus  they  sweetly  spoke  : 
'  Thy  thralls,  O  Rama,  here  we  stand  : 
Command,  we  pray,  thy  faithful  band.' 
'Depart,'  he  cried/' where  each  may  list, 
But  when  I  call  you  to  assist, 
Be  present  to  my  mind  with  speed, 
And  aid  me  in  the  hour  of  need.' 
To  Rama  then  they  lowly  bent, 
And  round  him  in  due  reverence  went, 
To  his  command,  they  answered,  Yea, 
And  as  they  came  so  went  away. 
When  thus  the  arms  had  homeward  flown, 
With  pleasant  words  and  modest  tone, 
E'en  as  he  walked,  the  prince  began 
To  question  thus  the  holy  man  : 
«  What  cloudlike  wood  is  that  which  near 
The  mountain's  side  I  see  appear? 
O  tell  me,  for  I  long  to  know  ; 
Its  pleasant  aspect  charms  me  so. 
Its  glades  are  full  of  deer  at  play, 
And  sweet  birds  sing  on  every  spray. 
Past  is  the  hideous  wild  ;  I  feel 
So  sweet  a  tremor  o'er  me  steal, 
And  hail  with  transport  fresh  and  new 
A  land  that  is  so  fair  to  view. 
Then  tell  me  all,  thou  holy  Sage, 
And  whose  this  pleasant  hermitage 
In  which  those  wicked  ones  delight 
To  mar  and  kill  each  holy  rite. 
Aud  with  foul  heart  and  evil  deed 
Thy  sacrifice,  great  Saint,  impede. 
To  whom,  O  Sage,  belongs  this  land 
In  which  thine  altars  ready  stand  ? 
'Tis  mine  to  guard  them,  and  to  slay 
The  giants  who  the  rites  would  stay. 


All  this,  0  best  of  saints,  I  burn 

From  thine  own  lips,  my  lord,  to  learn.' 


CANTO  XXXI. 


THE  PERFECT  HERMITAGE, 

Thus  spoke  the  pri  nee  of  boundless  might, 
And  thus  replied  the  anchorite  : 
'  Chief  of  the  mighty  arm,  of  yore 
Lord  Vishni  whom  the  Gods  adore, 
For  holy  thought  and  rites  austere 
Of  penance  made  his  dwelling  here. 
This  ancient  wood  was  called  of  old 
Grove  of  the  Dwarf,  the  mighty-souled, 
And  when  perfection  he  attained 
The  grove  the  name  of  Perfect  gained. 
Bali  of  yore,  Virochan's  son, 
Dominion  over  Indra  won, 
And   when  with  power  his  proud  heart 

swelled, 

O'er  the  three  worlds  his  empire  held. 
When  Bali  then  began  a  rite, 
The  Gods  and  Indra  in  affrght 
Sought  Vishnu  in  this  place  of  rest, 
And  thus  with  prayers  the  God  addressed: 
'Bali.  Virochan's  mighty  son, 
His  sacrifice  has  now  begun: 
Of  boundless  wealth,  that  demon  king 
Is  bounteous  to  each  living  thing. 
Though  suppliants  flock  from  every  side 
The  suit  of  none  is  e'er  denied. 
Whatever,  where'er  howe'er  the  call, 
He  hears  the  suit  and  gives  to  all, 
Now  with  thine  own  illusive  art 
Perform,  O  Lord,  the  helper's  part : 
Assume  a  dwarfish  form,  and  thus 
From  fear  and  danger  rescue  us.'i 

Thus  in  their  dread  the  Immortals  sued : 
The  God  a  dwarflike  shape  indued  :2 
Before  Virochan's  son  he  came, 
Three  steps  of  land  his  only  claim. 
The  boon  obtained,  in  wondrous  wise 
Lord  Vishnu's  form  increased  in  size; 
Through  all  the  worlds,  tremendous,  vast, 
God  of  the  Triple  Step,  he  passed.3 
The  whole  broad  earth  from  side  to  side 
He  measured  with  one  mighty  stride. 
Spanned  with  the  next  the  firmament, 
And  with  thethird  through  heaven  he  went. 

i  I  omit,  after  this  line,  eight  slakes 
which,  as  Schlegel  allows,  are  quite  out 
of  place. 

*  This  is  the  fifth  of  the  avatars,  des- 
cents or  incarnations  of  Vishnu. 

3  This  is  a  solar  allegory.'  Vishnu  is 
the  sun,  the  three  steps  being  his  rising, 
culmination,  and  setting. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


tioolc  I. 


Thus  was  the  king  of  demons  hurled 
By  Vishnu  to  the  nether  world, 
And  thus  the  universe  restored 
To  Indra's  rule,  its  ancient  lord. 
And  now  because  the  immortal  God 
This  spot  in  dwarflike  semblance  trod, 
The  grove  has  aye  been  loved  by  me 
For  reverence  of  the  devotee. 
But  demons  haunt  it,  prompt  to  stay 
Each  holy  offering  I  would  pay. 
Be  thine,  O  lion-lord,  to  kill 
These  giants  that  delight  in  ill. 
This  da}-,  beloved  child,  our  feet 
Shall  rest  within  the  calm  retreat  : 
And  know,  thou  chief  of  Raghu's  line, 
My  hermitage  is  also  thine.' 

He  spoke  ;  and  soon  the  anchorite, 
With  joyous  looks  that  beamed  delight, 
With  Rama  and  his  brother  stood 
Within  the  consecrated  wood. 
Soon  as  they  saw  the  holy  man, 
With  one  accord  together  ran 
The  dwellers  in  the  sacred  shade, 
And  to  the  saint  their  reverence  paid, 
And  offered  water  for  his  feet, 
The  gift  of  honour  and  a  seat ; 
And  next  with  hospitable  care 
They  entertained  the  princely  pair, 
The  royal  tamers  of  their  foes 
Rested  awhile  in  sweet  repose: 
Then  to  the  chief  of  hermits  sued 
Standing  in  suppliant  attitude  : 
*  Begin,  O  best  of  saints,  we  pray, 
Initiatory  rites  to-day. 
This  Perfect  Grove  shall  be  anew 
Made  perfect,  and  thy  words  be  true.' 

Then,  thus  addressed,  the  holy  man, 
The  very  glorious  sage,  began 
The  high  preliminary  rite. 
Restraining  sense  and  appetite. 
Calmly  the  youths   that  night  reposed, 
And  rose  when  morn  her  light  disclosed, 
Their  morning  worship  paid,  and  took 
Of  lustral  water  from  the  brook. 
Thus  purified  they  breathed  the  prayer, 
Then  greeted  Visvamitra  where 
As  celebrant  he  sate  beside 
The  flame  with  sacred  oil  supplied. 

CANTO  XXXII. 


SACRIFICE. 

That  conquering  pair,  of  royal  race, 
Skilled  to  observe  due  time  and  place, 
To  Kusik's  hermit  son  addressed, 
In  timely  words,  their  meet  request : 
'  When  must  we,  lord,  we  pray  thee  tell, 
Those  Rovers  of  the  Night  repel  jf 


Speak,  lest  we  let  the  moment  fly, 
And  pass  the  due  occasion  by.' 
Thus  longing  for  the  strife,  they  prayed, 
And  thus  the  hermits  answer  made  : 
Till  the  fifth  day  be  come  and  past, 
O  Raghu's  sons,  your  watch  must  last. 
The  saint  his  Diksha1  has  begun, 
And  all  that  time  will  speak  to  none.' 
Soon  as  the  steadfast  devotees 
Had  made  reply  in  words  like  these, 
The  youths  began,  disdaining  sleep, 
Six  days  and  nights  their  watch  to  keep. 
The  warrior  pair  who  tamed  the  foe, 
Unrivalled  benders  of  the  bow, 
Kept  watch  and  ward  unwearied  still 
To  guard  the  saint  from  scathe  and  ill. 
*  Twas  now  the  sixth  returning  day, 
The  hour  foretold  had  past  away. 
Then  Rama  cried  :  '  O  Lakshman,  now 
Firm,  watchful,  resolute  be  thou. 
The  fiends  as  yet  have  kept  afar 
From  the  pure  grove  in  which  we  are  ; 
Yet  waits  us,  ere  the  day  shall  close, 
Dire  battle  with  the  demon  foes.' 

While  thus  spoke  Rama  borne  away 
By  longing  for  the  deadly  fray, 
See  !  bursting  from  the  altar  came 
The  sudden  glory  of  the  flame. 
Round  priest  and  deacon,  and  upon 
Grass,  ladles,  flowers,  the  splendour  shone, 

And  the  high  rite,  in  order  due, 
With  sacred  texts  began  anew. 
But  then  a  loud  and  fearful  roar 

Re-echoed  through  the  sky  ; 
And  like  vast  clouds  that  shadow  o'er 

The  heavens  in  dark  July, 
Involved  in  gloom  of  magic  might 

Two  fiends  rushed  on  amain, 
Marie  ha,  Rover  of  the  Night, 

Suvahu,  and  their  train. 
As  on  they  came  in  wild  career 

Thick  blood  in  rain  they  shed; 
And  Rama  saw  those  things  of  fear 

Impending  overhead. 
Then  soon  as  those  accursed  two 

Who  showered  down  blood  he  spied, 
Thus  to  his  brother  brave  and  true 

Spoke  Rama  lotus-eyed  : 
*Now,Lakshman,thou  these  fiends  shalt  see, 

Man-eaters,  foul  of  mind, 
Before  my  mortal  weapon  flee 

Like  clouds  before  the  wind.' 
He  spoke.  An  arrow,  swift  as  thought, 

Upon  his  bow  he  pressed, 
And  smote,  to  utmost  fury  wrought, 

Marie  ha  on  the  breast. 
Deep  in  his  flesh  the  weapon  lay 

Winged  by  the  mystic  spell, 


1  Certain  ceremonies  preliminary  to  a 
sa  crifice. 


Canto*  XXXIII. 


THE  RAMADAN. 


45 


And,  hurled  a  hundred  leagues  "a  way, 

In  ocean's  flood  he  fell. 
Then  Rama,  when  he  saw  the  foe 

Convulsed  and  mad  witli  pain 
Neath  the  chill-pointed  weapon's  blow, 

To  Lakshman  spoke  again  : 
'See,  Lakshman,  see  !  this  mortal  dart 

That  strikes  a  numbing  chill, 
Hath  struck  him  senseless  with  the  smart, 

But  left  him  breathing  still. 
But  these  who  love  the  evil  way, 

And  drink  the  blood  they  spill, 
Kejoicing  holy  rites  to  stay, 

Fierce  plagues,  my  hand  shall  kill.' 
He  seized  another  shaft,  the  best, 

Aglow  with  living  flame; 
It  struck  Suvahu  on  the  chest, 

And  dead  to  earth  he  came. 
Again  a  dart,  the  Wind-God's  own, 

Upon  his  string  he  laid, 
And  all  the  demons  were  o'erthrown, 

The  saints  no  more  afraid. 
When  thus  the  fiends  were  slain  in   light, 
Disturbers  of  each  holy  rite, 
Due  honour  by  the  saints  was  paid 
To  Rama  for  'his  wondrous  aid  : 
So  Indra  is  adored  when  he 
Has  won  some  glorious  victory. 
Sucaess^at  last  the  rite  had  crowned, 
And  Visvaniitra  gazed  around, 
And  seeing  every  side  at  rest, 
The  son  of  Raghu  thus  addressed  : 
*  My  joy.  O  Prince,  is  now  complete  : 

Thou  hast  obeyed  my  will : 
Perfect  before,  this  calm  retreat 

In  now  more  perfect  still.' 


CANTO  XXXIII. 


THE  SONE. 

Their  task  achieved,  the  princes  spent 
That  night  with  joy  and  full  content. 
Ere  yet  the  dawn  was  well  displayed 
Their  morning  rites  they  duly  paid, 
And  sought,  while  yet  the  light  was  faint, 
The  hermits  and  the  mighty  saint. 
They  greeted  first  that  holy  sire 
Resplendent  like  the  burning  tire, 
And  then  with  noble  word*  began 
Their  sweet  speech  to  the  sainted  man  : 
'  Here  stand,  O  Lord,  thy  servants  true  : 
Command  what  thou  wouldst  have  us  do,' 

The  saints,  by  Visvaniitra  led, 
To  Rama  thus  in  answer  said  ; 
*  Janak  the  king  who  rules  the  land 
Of  fertile  Mithila  has  planned 
A  noble  sacrifice,  and  we 
Will  thither  go  the  rite  to  see. 


Thou,  Prince  of  men,  with  us  shalt  go, 
And  there  behold  tiie  wondrous^bow, 
Terrific,  vast,  of  matchless  might, 
Which,  splendid  at  the  famous  rite, 
Tae  Gods  assembled  gave  the  king. 
No  giant,  fiend,  or  God  can  string 
That  gem  of  bows,  no  heavenly  bard  ; 
Then,  sure,  for  m  in  the  task  were  hard* 
When  lords  of  earth  have  longed  to  know 
The  virtue  of  that  wondrous  bow, 
The  strongest  sons  of  kings  in  vain 
Have  tried  the  mighty  cord  to  strain. 
This  famous  bow  thou  there  shalt  view, 
And  wondrous  rites  shalt  witness  too. 
Tiie  high-souled  king  who  lords  it  o'er 
Tue  realm  of  iMithila  of  yore 
Gained  from  the  God*  this  bow,  the  prica 
Of  his  imperial  sacrifice. 
Won  by  the  rite  the  glorious  prize 
Still  in  the  royal  palace  lies, 
Laid  up  in  oil  of  precious  scent 
With  aloe-wood  and  i no 3 rise  blent.' 

Then  Rama  answering,  Be  it  so, 
Made  ready  with  the  rest  to  go. 
The  saint  himself  was  now  prepared, 
Bat  ere  beyond  tiie  grove  he  fared, 
He  turned  him  and  in  words  like  these 
Addressed  the  sylvan  deities  : 
*  Farewell !  each  holy  rite  complete, 
I  leave  the  hermits'  perfect  seat  : 
To  Ganga's  northern  shore  I  go 
Beneatli  Himalaya's  peaks  of  snow.' 
With  reverent  steps  he  paced  around 
The  limits  of  the  holy  ground, 
And  then  the  mighty  saint  set  fo'-th. 
And  took  his  journey  to  the  north. 
His  pupils,  deep  in  Scripture's  page, 
Followed  behind  the  holy  sage, 
And  servants  from  the  sacred  grove 
A  hundred  wains  for  convoy  drove. 
The  very  birds  that  winged  that  air, 
The  very  deer  that  harboured  there, 
Forsook  the  glade  and  leaf  v  brake 
And  followed  for  the  hermit's  sake. 
They  travelled  far,  till  in  the  west 
The  sun  was  speeding  to  his  rest, 
And  made,  their  portioned  journey  o'er, 
Their  halt  on  Nona's1  distant  shore. 
The  hermits  bathed  when  sank  the  sun, 
And  every  rite  was  duly  done, 
Oblations  paid  to  Fire,  and  then 
Sate  round  their  chief  the  holy  men. 
Rama  and  Lakshman  lowly  bowed 
]n  reverence  to  the  hermit  crowd, 
And  Rama,  having  sate  him  down 
Before  the  saint  of  pure  renown, 

1  A  river  which  rises  in  Bidelcund  and 
falls  into  the  Ganges  near  Patna.  It  is 
called  also  Hiraiiyni-dliu,  G  )lden- armed, 
and  Hiranyavdha,  Auriferous. 


46 


THE  HAM  A  YAN. 


Boole  I. 


With  humble  palms  together  laid 
His  eager  supplication  made  : 
'  What  country,  O  my  lord,  is  this, 
Fair-smiling  iii  her  wealth  and  bliss? 
Deign  fully,  0  thou  mighty  Seer, 
To  tell  me,  for  I  long  to  hear.' 
Moved  by  the  prayer  of  Rama,  he 
Told  forth  the  country's  history. 

CANTO  XXXIV. 
BE  AH  MAD  ATT  A. 

*  A  king  of  Brahma's  seed  who  bore 
The  name  of  Kusa  reigned  of  yore. 
Just,  faithful  to  his  vows,  and  true, 
He  held  the  good  in  honour  due. 
His  bride,  a  queen  of  noble  name, 
Of  old  Vidarbha's1  monarchs  came. 
Like  their  own  father,  children  four, 
All  valiant  boys,  the  lady  bore. 

In  glorious  deeds  each  nerve  they  strained, 
And  well  their  Warrior  part  sustained. 
To  them  most  just,  and  true,  and  brave, 
Their  father  thus  his  counsel  gave  : 

*  Beloved  children,  ne'er  forget 
Protection  is  a  prince's  debt : 
The  noble  work  at  once  begin, 
High  virtue  and  her  fruits  to  win/ 
The  youths,  to  all  the  people  dear, 
Deceived  his  speech  with  willing  ear  ; 
And  each  went  forth  his  several  way, 
Foundations  of  a  town  to  lay. 
Kusamba,  prince  of  high  renown, 
Was  builder  of  Kausambi's  town, 
And  Kusanabha,  just  and  wise, 
Bade  high  Mahodaya's  towers  arise. 
Amurtarajas  chose  "to  dwell 

In  Dharmaranya's  citadel, 
And  Vasu  bade  his  city  fair 
The  mime  of  Girivraja  bear.2 
This  fertile  spot  whereon  we  stand 
Was  once  the  high-souled  Vasu's  land. 
Behold  !  as  round  we  turn  our  eyes, 

1  The  modern  Berar. 

z  According  to  the  Bengal  recension  the 
first  (.Kusamba)  is  called  KusAsva,  and  his 
city  Kaustisvi.  This  name  does  not  recur 
elsewhere.  The  reading  of  the  northern 
recension  is  confirmed  by  Fo6  Koug  Ki ; 
p.  385,  where  the  city  Klaoahuugmi  is  men- 
tioned. It  lay  500  lis  to  the  South-west  of 
Praydgq,,  on  the  south  bank  of  the  Jumna. 
Mahoaaya  is  another  name  of  Kany:ikubja; 
JDtiartnaranya,  the  wood  to  which  the 
God  of  Justice  is  said  to  have  fled  through 
fear  of  Soma  the  Moon-God  was  in  Ma- 

gadh.    Girivraja  was  in  the  same  neigh- 
ourhood,  See  Lassen's  I.  A.  Vol,  I,  p.  b(M. 


Five  lofty  mountain  peaks  arise. 

See  !  bursting  from  her  parent  hill, 

iSumagadhi,  a  lovely  rill, 

Bright  gleaming  as  she  flows  between 

The  mountain^-,  like  a  wreath  is  seen, 

Arid  then  through   Magadh's   plains   and 

groves 

With  many  a  fair  mseander  roves. 
And  this  was  Vasu's  old  domain, 
The  fertile  Magadh's  bn  ad  champaign, 
Which  smiling  h'elds  of  tilth  adorn 
And  diadem  with  golden  corn. 

The  oueen  Ghritachi,  nymph  most  fair, 
Married  to  Kusanabha,  bare 
A  hundred  daughters,  lovely -faced, 
With  every  charm  and  beauty  graced. 
It  chanced  the  maidens,  bright  and  gay 
As  lightning-flashes  on  a  day 
Of  rain-time,  to  the  garden  went 
With  song  and  play  and  merriment, 
And  there  in  gay  attire  they  strayed, 
And  danced,  and  laughed,  and  sang,  and 

played. 

The  God  of  Wind  who  roves  at  will 
All  places,  as  he  lists,  to  fill, 
Saw  the  young  maidens  dancing  there, 
Of  faultless  shape  and  mien  most  fair. 

*  I  love  you  all,  sweet  girls,'  he  cried, 
And  each  shall  be  my  darling  bride. 
Forsake,  forsake  your  mortal  lot, 
And  gain  a  life  that  withers  not. 

A  tickle  thing  is  youth's  brief  span, 
And  more  than  all  in  mortal  man. 
Receive  unending  youth,  and  be 
Immortal,  O  my  loves,  with  me.' 

The  hundred  girls,  to  wonder  stirred, 
The  wooing  of  the  Wind-God  heard, 
Laughed,  as  a  jest,  his  suit  aside, 
And  with  one  voice  they  thus  replied  : 

*  O  mighty  Wind,  free  spirit  who 

All  life  pervadest,  through  and  through, 
Thy  wondrous  power  we  maidens  know  ; 
Then  wherefore  wilt  thou  mock  us  so  ? 
Our  sire  is  Kusanabha,  King  ; 
And  we,  forsooth,  have  charms  to  bring 
A  God  to  woo  us  from  the  skies  ; 
But  honour  first  we  maidens  prize. 
Far  may  the  hour,  we  pray,  be  hence, 
When  we,  O  thou  of  little  sense, 
Our  truthful  father's  choice  refuse, 
Arid  for  ourselves  our  husbands  choose. 
Our  honoured  sire  our  lord  we  deem, 
He  is  to  us  a  God  supreme, 
And  they  to  whom  his  high  decree 
May  give  us  shall  our  husbands  be.' 

He  heard  the  answer  they  returned, 
And  mighty  rage  within  him  burned. 
On  each  fair  maid  a  blast  he  sent  : 
Each  stately  form  he  bowed  and  bent. 
Bent  double  by  the  Wind -God's  ire 
They  sought  the  palace  of  their  sire, 


Canto  XXXIV. 


THE  RAMAYAN, 


47 


There  fell  upon  the  ground  with  sighs, 
While  tears  and  shame  were  in  their  eyes. 
The  king  himself,  with  troubled  brow, 
Saw  his  dear  girls  so  fair  but  now, 
A  mournful  sight  all  bent  and  bowed, 
And  grieving  thus  he  cried  aloud  : 
« What  fate  is  this,  and  what  the  cause  ? 
What  wretch  has  scorned  all  heavenly  laws? 
Who   thus  your  forms   could  curve   and 

break? 
You  struggle,  but  no  answer  make.' 

They  heard  the  speech  of  that  wise  king 
Of  their  misfortune  questioning. 
Again  the  hundred  maidens  sighed, 
Touched  with  their  heads  his  feet,and  cried: 
«  The  God  of  Wind,  pervading  space, 
Would  bring  on  us  a  foul  disgrace, 
And  choosing  folly's  evil  way 
From  virtue's  path  in  scorn  would  stray. 
But  we  in  words  like  these  reproved 
The  God  of  Wind  whom  passion  moved  : 
*  Farewell,  0  Lord  !  A  sire  have  we, 
No  women  uncontrolled  and  free. 
Go,  and  our  sire's  consent  obtain 
If  thou  our  maiden  hands  wouldstgain. 
No  self-dependent  life  we  live  : 
]f  we  offend,  our  fault  forgive.' 
'  But  led  by  folly  as  a  slave, 
He  would  not  hear  the  rede  we  gave, 
And  even  as  we  gently  spoke 
We  felt  the  Wind-God's  crushing  stroke.' 

The  pious  king,  with  grief  distressed, 
The  noble  hundred  thus  addressed: 
'  With  patience,  daughters,  bear  your  fate, 
Yours  was  a  deed  supremely  great 
When  with  one  mind  you  kept  from  shame 
The  honour  of  your  father's  name. 
Patience,  when  men  their  anger  vent, 
Is  woman's  praise  and  ornament  ; 
Yet  when  the  Gods  inflict  the  blow 
Hard  is  it  to  support  the  woe. 
Patience,  my  girls,  exceeds  all  price : 
'Tis  alnit*,  and  truth,  and  sacrifice. 
Patience  is  virtue,  patience  fame  : 
Patience  upholds  this  earthly  frame. 
And  now,  I  think,  is  come  the  time 
To  wed  you  in  vour  maiden  prime. 
Now,  daughters,  go  where'er  you  will  : 
Thoughts  for  your  good  my  mind  shall  fill.' 

The  maidens  went,  consoled,  away  : 
The  best  of  kings,  that  very  day, 
Summoned  his  ministers  of  state 
About  their  marriage  to  debate. 
Since  then,  because  the  Wind-God  bent 
The  damsels'  forms  for  punishment, 
That  royal  town  is  known  to  fame 
By  Kanyakubja's1  borrowed  name. 


1  That  is,  the  City  of  the  Bent  Virgins, 
the  modern  Kanauj  or  Canouge, 


There  lived  a  sage  called  Chuli  then, 
Devoutest  of  the  sons  of  men  ; 
His  days  in  penance  rites  he  spent, 
A  glorious  saint,  most  continent. 
To  him  absorbed  in  tasks  austere 
The  child  of  Urmila  drew  near, 
Sweet  Sornada,  the  heavenly  maid 
And  lent  the  saint  her  pious  aid. 
Long  time  near  him  the  maiden  spent, 
And  served  him  meek  and  reverent, 
Till  the  great  hermit,  pleased  with  her, 
Thus  spoke  unto  his  minister  : 

*  Grateful  am  I  for  all  thy  care  : 
Ble?«t  maiden,  speak,  thy  wish  declare.1 
The  sweet-voiced  nymph  rejoiced  to  see 
The  favour  of  the  devotee, 

And  to  that  eloquent  old  man, 
Most  eloquent  she  thus  began  : 

*  Thou  hast,  by  heavenly  grace  sustained, 
Close  union  with  the  Godhead  gained. 

1  long,  O  Saint,  to  see  a  son 

By  force  of  holy  penance  won. 

Unwed,  a  maiden  life  I  live  : 

A  son  to  me,  thy  suppliant,  give.' 

The  saint  with  favour  heard  her  prayer, 

And  gave  a  son  exceeding  fair. 

Him,  Chuli's  spiritual  child, 

His  mother  Brahmadatta1  styled. 

King  Brahmadatta,  rich  and  great, 

In  Kampili  maintained  his  state, 

Ruling,  like  Indra  in  his  bliss, 

His  fortunate  metropolis. 

King  Kusanabha  planned  that  he 

His  hundred  daughters'  lord  should  be. 

To  him,  obedient  to  his  call, 

The  happy  monarch  gave  them  all. 

Like  Indra  then  he  took  the  hand 

Of  every  maiden  of  the  band. 

Soon  as  the  hand  of  each  young  maid 

In  Brahmadatta's  palm  was  laid, 

Deformity  and  cares  away, 

She  shone  in  beauty  bright  and  gay. 

Their  freedom  from  the  Wind-God's  might 

Saw  Kusanabha  with  delight. 

Each  glance  that  on  their  forms  he  threw 

Filled  him  with  raptures  ever  new. 

Then  when  the  rites  were  all  complete, 

With  highest  marks  of  honour  meet 

The  bridegroom  with  his  brides  he  sent 

To  his  great  seat  of  government. 

The  nymph  received  with  pleasant  speech 
Her  daughters  ;  and,  embracing  each, 
Upon  their  forms  she  fondly  gazed, 
And  royal  Kusanabha  praised. 

1  Literally,  Given  by  Brahma  or  dev- 
out contemplation. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Hook  I. 


CANTO  XXXV. 


LINEAGE. 


*The  rites  were  o'er,  the  maids  were  wed, 

The  bridegroom  to  his  home  was  sped. 

The  sonless  monarch  bade  prepare 

A  sacrifice  to  gain  an  heir. 

Then  Kusa,  Brahma's  son,  appeared, 

And  thus  King  Kusanabha  cheered  : 

'  Thou  shalt,  my  child,  obtain  a  son 

Like  thine  own  self,  O  holy  one. 

Through  him  for  ever,  Gadhi  named, 

Shalt  thou  in  all  the  worlds  be  famed,' 

*  He  spoke,  and  vanished  from  the  sight 

To  Brahma's  world  of  endless  light. 

Time  fled,  arid,  as  the  saint  foretold, 

Gadhi  was  born,  the  holy-souled. 

My  sire  was  he  ;  through  him  I  trace 

My  line  from  royal  Kusa's  race. 

]\ly  sister  —  elder-born  was  she  — 

The  pure  and  good  Satvavati,1 

Was  to  the  great  Kichika  wed. 

Still  faithful  to  her  husband  dead, 

She  followed  him,  most  noble  dame, 

And,  raised  to  heaven  in  human  frame, 

A  pure  celestial  stream  became. 

Down  from  Himalaya's  snowy  height, 

In  floods  for  ever  fair  and  bright, 

My  sister's  holy  waves  are  hurled 

To  purify  and  glad  the  world. 

Now  on  Himalaya's  side  I  dwell 

Because  I  love  my  sister  well. 

She,  for  her  faith  and  truth  renowned, 

Most  loving  to  her  husband  found, 

High  -fated,  firm  in  each  pure  vow, 

Is  queen  of  all  the  rivers  now. 

Bound  by  a  vow  I  left  her  side 

And  to  the  Perfect  convent  hied. 

There,  by  the  aid  'twas  thine  to  lend, 

Made  perfect,  all  my  labours  end. 

Thus,  mighty  Prince,  I  now  have  told 

My  race  and  lineage,  high  and  old, 

And  local  tales  of  long  ago 

Which  thou,O  Rama,1fain  wouldst  know 

As  I  have  sate  rehearsing  thus 

The  midnight  hour  is  come  on  us. 

Mow,  Kama,  sleep,  that  nothing  may 

Our  journey  of  to-morrow  stay. 

No  leaf  on  any  tree  is  stirred  : 

Hushed  in  repose  are  beast  and  bird  : 

1  Now  called  Kosi  (Cosy)  corrupted  from 
Kausiki,  daughter  of  Kusa. 

'This  is  one  of  those  personifications  of 
rivers  so  frequent  in  the  Grecian  mytho- 
logy. but  in  the  similar  myths  is  seen  the 
impress  of  the  genius  of  each  people,  aus- 
tere and  profoundly  religious  in  India, 
graceful  and  devoted  to  the  worship  of 
external  beauty  in  Greece.'  GORKESIO. 


Where'er  you  turn ,  on  every  side, 
Dense  shades  of  night  the  landscape  hide. 
The  light  of  eve  is  fled:  the  skies, 
Thick-studded  with  their  host  of  eyes, 
Seem  a  star-forest  overhead, 
Where  signs  and  constellations  spread. 
Now  rises,  with  his  pure  cold  ray, 
The  moon  that  drives  the  shades  away, 
And  with  his  gentle  influence  brings 
Joy  to  the  hearts  of  living  things. 
Now,  stealing  from  their  lairs,  appear 
The  beasts  to  whom  the  night  is  dear. 
Now  spirits  walk,  and  every  power 
That  revels  in  the  midnight  hour.' 

The  mighty  hermit's  tale  was  o'er, 
He  closed  his  lips  and  spoke  no  more. 
The  holy  men  on  every  side, 
*  Well  done  1  well  done,'  with  reverence 

cried  ; 

'  The  mighty  men  of  Kusa's  seed 
Were  ever  famed  for  righteous  deed. 
Like  Brahma's  self  in  glory  shine 
The  high-souled  lords  of  Kusa's  line, 
And  thy  great  name  is  sounded  most, 
0  Saint,  amid  the  noble  host. 
And  thy  dear  sister — fairest  she 
Of  streams,  the  high-born  Kausiki — 
Diffusing  virtue  where  she  flows, 
New  splendour  on  thy  lineage  throws.' 
Thus  by  the  chief  of  saints  addressed 
The  son  of  Gadhi  turned  to  rest ; 
So,  when  his  daily  course  is  done, 
Sinks  to  his  rest  the  beaming  sun. 
Rama  with  Lakshman.   somewhat  stirred 
To  marvel  by  the  tales  they  heard, 
Turned  also  to  his  couch,  to  close 
His  eyelids  in  desired  repose. 


CANTO  XXXVI. 


THE  BIRTH   OF  GANG  A. 

The  hours  of  night  now  waning  fast 
On  Nona's  pleasant  shore  they  passed. 
Then,  when  the  dawn  began  to  break, 
To  Rama  thus  the  hermit  spake  : 
*  The  light  of  dawn  is  breaking  clear, 
The  hour  of  morning  rites  is  near, 
Rise,  Rama,  rise,  dear  son,  I  pray, 
And  make  thee  ready  for  the  way.' 
Then  Rama  rose,  and  finished  all 
His  duties  at  the  hermit's  call, 
Prepared  with  joy  the  road  to  take, 
And  thus  again  in  question  spake  : 
'  Here  fair  and  deep  the  $ona  flows, 
And  many  an  isle  its  bosom  shows  : 
What  way,  O  Saint,  will  lead  us  o'er 
And  land  us  on  the  farther  shore  ? 
The  saint  replied  :  'The  way  I  choose 
Is  that  which  pious  hermits  use.' 


Canto  XXXIX. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


For  many  a  league  they  journeyed  on 
Till,  when  the  sun  of  mid-day  shone, 
The  hermit-haunted  flood  was  seen 
Of  Jahnavi,1  the  Rivers'  Queen. 
Soon  as  the  holy  stream  they  viewed, 
Thronged  with  a  white-winged  multitude 
Of  sarases*  and  swans,3  delight 
Possessed  them  at  the  lovely  sight ; 
And  then  prepared  the  hermit  band 
To  halt  upon  that  holy  strand. 
They  bathed  as  Scripture  bids,  and  paid 
Oblations  due  to  God  and  shade. 
To  Fire  they  burnt  the  offerings  meet, 
And  sipped  the  oil,  like  Amrit  sweet. 
Then  pure  and  pleased  they  sate  around 
Saint  Visvamitra  on  the  ground. 
The  holy  men  of  lesser  note, 
In  due  degree,  sate  more  remote, 
While  Raghu's  sons  took  nearer  place 
By  virtue  of  their  rank  and  race. 
Then  Rama  said  :  *  0  Saint,  I  yearn 
The  three-pathed  Ganga's  tale  to  learn.' 

Thus  urged,  the  sage  recounted  both 
The  birth  of  Ganga  and  her  growth  : 
'The  mighty  hill  with  metals  stored, 
Himalaya,  is  the  mountains'  lord, 
The  father  of  a  lovely  pair 
Of  daughters  fairest  of  the  fair  : 
Their  mother,  offspring  of  the  will 
Of  Meru,  everlasting  hill, 
>Iena,  Himalaya's  darling,  graced 
With  beauty  of  her  dainty  waist. 
Ganga  was  elder-born  :  then  came 
The  fair  one  known  by  Uma's  name. 
Then  all  the  Gods  of  heaven,  in  need 
Of  Ganga's  help  their  vows  to  speed, 
To  great  Himalaya  came  and  prayed 
The  mountain  King  to  yield  the  maid. 
He,  not  regardless  of  the  weal 
Of  the  three  worlds,  with  holy  zeal 
His  daughter  to  the  Immortals  gave, 
Ganga  whose  waters  cleanse  and  save, 
Who  roams  at  pleasure,  fair  and  free, 
Purging  all  sinners,  to  the  sea. 
The  three-pathed  Ganga  thus  obtained, 
The  Gods  their  heavenly  homes  regained. 
Long  time  the  sister  Uma  passed 
In  vows  austere  and  rigid  fast, 
And  the  king  gave  the  devotee 
Immortal  RudraV  bride  to  be, 
Matching  with  that  unequalled  Lord 
His  Uma  through  the  worlds  adored. 
So  now  a  glorious  station  fills 


1  One    of    the  names   of    the   Ganges 
considered  as  the  daughter  of  Jahnu.  See 
Canto  XLIV. 

2  The  Indian  Crane. 

3  Or,  rather,  geese. 

*  A  name  of  the  God  £iva, 


Each  daughter  of  the  King  of  Hills  : 
One  honoured  as  the  noblest  stream, 
One  mid  the  Goddesses  supreme. 
Thus  Ganga,  King  Himalaya's  child, 
The  heavenly  river,  undefiled, 
Hose  bearing  with  her  to  the  sky 
Her  waves  that  bless  and  purify/ 

CANTO  XXXIX. 


THE  SONS  OF  SAGAR. 

The  saint  in  accents  sweet  and  clear 

Thus  told  his  tale  for  Rama's  ear, 

And  thus  anew  the  holy  man 

A  legend  to  the  prince  began  : 

'  There  reigned  a  pious  monarch  o'er 

Ayodhya  in  the  days  of  yore  : 

Sagar  his  name  :  no  child  had  he, 

And  children  much  he  longed  to  see. 

His  honoured  consort,  fair  of  face, 

Sprang  from  Vidarbha's  royal  race, 

Kesini,  famed  from  early  youth 

For  piety  and  love  of  truth. 

Arishtanemi's  daughter  fair, 

With  whom  no  maiden  might  compare 

In  beauty,  though  the  earth  is  wide, 

Stimati,  was  his  second  bride. 

With  his  two  queens  afar  he  went, 

And  weary  days  in  penance  spent, 

Fervent,  upon  Himalaya's  hill 

Where  springs  the  stream  called  Bhrigu's 

rill. 

Nor  did  he  fail  that  saint  to  please 
With  his  devout  austerities, 
And,  when  a  hundred  years  had  fled, 
Thus  the  most  truthful  Bhrigu  said  : 
'From  thee,  O  Sagar.  blameless  King, 
A  mighty  host  of  sons  shall  spring, 
And  thou  shalt  win  a  glorious  name 
Which  none,  O  Chief,  but  thou  shall  claim. 
One  of  thy  queens  a  son  shall  bear 
Maintainer  of  thy  race  and  heir  ; 
And  of  the  other  there  shall  be 
Sons  sixty  thousand  born  to  thee.' 

Thus  as  he  spake,  with  one  accord, 
To  win  the  grace  of  that  high  lord, 
The  queens,  with  palms  together  laid, 
In  humble  supplication  prayed  : 
*  Which  queen,  O  Brahman,  of  the  pair, 
The  many,  or  the  one  shall  bear  ? 
Most  eager,  Lord,  are  we  to  know, 
And  as  thou  sayest  be  it  so.' 

I  am  compelled  to  omit  Cantos  XXXVII 
and  XXXVIII,  THE  GLORY  OF  UMA,  and 
THE  BIRTH  OF  KARTIKEYA,  as  both  in 
subject  and  language  offensive  to  modern 
taste.  They  will  be  found  in  Schlegel's 
Latin  translation. 


50 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


tioolc  /. 


With  his  sweet  speech  the  saint  replied  : 
f  Yourselves,  O  Queens,  the  choice  decide. 
Your  own  discretion  freely  use 
Which  shall  the  one  or  many  choose  : 
One  shall  the  race  and  name  uphold, 
The  host  be  famous,  strong,  and  bold. 
Which  will  have  which?'    Then  Kesini 
The  mother  of  one  heir  would  be. 
Sumati,  sister  of  the  king1 
Of  all  the  birds  that  ply  the  wing, 
To  that  illustrious  Brahman  sued 
That  she  might  bear  the  multitude 
Whose  fame  throughout  the  world  should 

sound 

For  mighty  enterprise  renowned. 
Around  the  saint  the  monarch  went, 
Bowing  his  head,  most  reverent. 
Then  with  his  wives,  with  willing  feet, 
Resought  his  own  imperial  seat. 
Time  passed.    The  elder  consort  bare 
A  son  called  Asamanj,  the  heir. 
Then  Sumati,  the  younger,  gave 
Birth  to  a  gourd, *  O  hero  brave, 
Whose  rind,  when  burst  and  cleft  in  two, 
Gave  sixty  thousand  babes  to  view. 
All  these  with  care  the  nurses  laid 
In  jars  of  oil  ;  and  there  they  stayed, 
Till,  youthful  age  and  strength  complete, 
Forth  speeding  from  each  dark  retreat, 
All  peers  in  valour,  years,  and  might, 
The  sixty  thousand  came  to  light. 
Prince  Asamanj,  brought  up  with  care, 
Scourge  of  his  foes,  was  made  the  heir. 
But  liegemen's  boys  he  used  to  cast 
To  Sarju's  waves  that  hurried  past, 
Laughing  the  while  in  cruel  glee 
Their  dying  agonies  to  see. 
This  wicked  prince  who  aye  withstood 
The  counsel  of  the  wise  and  good, 
Who  plagued  the  people  in  his  hate, 
His  father  banished  from  the  state. 
His  son,  kind-spoken,  brave,  and  tall, 
Was  Ansuman,  beloved  of  all. 

Long  years  flew  by.    The  king  decreed 
To  slay  a  sacrificial  steed. 
Consulting  with  his  priestly  band 
He  vowed  the  rite  his  soul  'had  planned, 
And,  Veda  skilled,  by  their  advice 
Made  ready  for  the  sacrifice, 

CANTO  XL. 


THE  CLEAVING  OF  THE  EARTH. 

The  hermit  ceased  :  the  tale  was  done  : 
Then  in  a  transport  Raghu's  son 


1  Garuda. 

2  Ikshvtiku,  the  name  of  a  king  of  Ayo- 
dhya  who  is  regarded  as  the  founder  of  the 


Again  addressed  the  ancient  sire 
Resplendent  as  a  burning  tire  : 
'O  holy  man,  I  fain  would  hear 
The  tale  repeated  full  and  clear 
How  he  from  whom  my  sires  descend 
Brought  the  great  rite  to  happy  end.' 
The  hermit  answered  with  a  smile  : 
4  Then  listen,  son  of  Raghu,  while 
My  legendary  tale  proceeds 
To  tell  of  high-souled  Sagar's  deeds. 
Within  the  spacious  plain  that  lies 
From  where  Himalaya's  heights  arise 
To  where  proud  Vindhya's  rival  chain 
Looks  down  upon  the  subject  plain— 
A  land  the  best  for  rites  declared1 — • 
His  sacrifice  the  king  prepared. 
And  Ansuman  the  prince — for  so 
Sagar  advised — with  ready  bow 
Was  borne  upon  a  mighty  car 
To  watch  the  steed  who  roamed  afar. 
But  Indra,  monarch  of  the  skies, 
Veiling  his  form  in  demon  guise, 
Came  down  upon  the  appointed  day 
And  drove  the  victim  horse  away. 
Reft  of  the  steek  the  priests,  distressed, 
The  master  of  the  rite  addressed  ; 
'Upon  the  sacred  day  by  force 
A  robber  takes  the  victim  horse. 
Haste,  King !  now  let  the  thief  be  slain ; 
Bring  thou  the  charger  back  again  : 
The  sacred  rite  prevented  thus 
Brings  scathe  and  woe  to  all  of  us. 
Rise,  monarch,  and  provide  with  speed 
That  naught  its  happy  course  impede.1 

King  Sagar  in  his  crowded  court 
Gave  ear  unto  the  priests'  report. 
He  summoned  straightway  to  his  side 
His  sixty  thousand  sons,  and  cried  : 
'  Brave  sons  of  mine,  I  knew  not  how 
These  demons  are  so  mighty  now  : 
The  priests  began  the  rite  so  well 
All  sanctified  with  prayer  and  spell. 
If  in  the  depths  of  earth  he  hide, 
Or  lurk  beneath  the  ocean's  tide, 


Solar  race,  means  also  a  gourd,  Hence, 
perhaps,  the  myth. 

1  '  The  region  here  spoken  of  is  called 
in  the  Laws  of  Manu  Madliyadesa  or  the 
middle  region.  'The  region  situated  bet- 
ween the  Himalaya  and  the  Vindhya 

Mountains is    called   Madhya- 

desa,  or  the  middle  region ;  the  space 
comprised  between  these  two  mountains 
from  the  eastern  to  the  western  sea  is  called 
by  sages  Aryavartta,  the  seat  of  honour- 
able men.'  (MANU,  II,  21,  22.)  The  Sans- 
krit  Indians  called  themselves  Aryans, 
which  means  honourable,  noble,  to  dis- 
tinguish themselves  from  the  surrounding 
nations  of  different  origin,'  GOKRESIO, 


Canto  XLL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


51 


Pursue,  dear  sons,  the  robber's  track  ; 
Slay  him  and  bring  the  charger  back. 
The  whole  of  this  broad  earth  explore, 
Sea-garlanded,  from  shore  to  shore  : 
Yea,  dig  her  up  with  might  and  main 
Until  you  see  the  horse  again. 
J)eep  let  your  searching  labour  reach, 
A  league  in  depth  dug  out  by  each. 
The  robber  of  our  horse  pursue, 
And  please  your  sire  who  orders  you. 
My  grandson,  I,  this  priestly  train, 
Till  the  steed  comes,  will  here  remain.' 

Their  eager  hearts  with  transport  burned 
As  to  their  task  the  heroes  turned. 
Obedient  to  their  father,  they 
Through  earth's  recesses  forced  their  way. 
With  iron  arms'  unflinching  toil 
Each  dug  a  league  beneath  the  soil. 
Earth,  cleft  asunder,  groaned  in  pain, 
As  emulous  they  plied  amain 
Sharp- pointed  coulter,  pick,  and  bar, 
Hard  as  the  bolts  of  Indra  are. 
Then  loud  the  horrid  clamour  rose 
Of  monsters  dying  neath  their  blows, 
Giant  and  demon,  fiend  and  snake, 
That  in  earth's  core  their  dwelling  make. 
They  dug,  in  ire  that  naught  could  stay, 
Through  sixty  thousand  leagues  their  way, 
Cleaving  the  earth  with  matchless  strength 
Till  hell  itself  they  reached  at  length. 
Thus  digging  searched  they  Jambudvip1 
With  all  its  hills  and  mountains  steep. 
Then  a  great  fear  began  to  shake 
The  heart  of  God,  bard,  (lend,  and  snake, 
And  all  distressed  in  spirit  went 
Before  the  Sire  Omnipotent. 
With  signs  of  woe  in  every  face 
They  sought  the  raighty  Father's  grace, 
And  trembling  still  and  ill  at  ease 
Addressed  their  Lord  in  words  like  these  : 
'  The  sons  of  Sagar,  Sire  benign, 
Pierce  the  whole  earth  with  mine  on  mine, 
And  as  their  ruthless  work  they  ply 
Innumerable  creatures  die. 
'  This  is  the  thief,'  the  princes  say, 
'Who  stole  our  victim  steed  away. 
This  marred  the  rite,  and  caused  us  ill, 
And  so  their  guiltless  blood  they  spill.' 

CANTO  XLL 


KAPIL. 

The  father  lent  a  gracious  ear 
And  listened  to  their  tale  of  fear, 


1  Said  to  be  so  called  from  the  Jambu, 
or  Rose  Apple,  abounding  in  it,  and  signi- 
fying according  to  the  Puranas  the  central 
division  of  the  world,  the  kncwn  world. 


And  kindly  to  the  Gods  replied 
Whom  woe  and  death  had  terrified  ; 
'  The  wisest  Vasudeva,1  who 
The  Immortals'  foe,  tierce  Madhu,  slew, 
Regards  broad  Earth  with  love  and  pride, 
And  guards,  in  Kapil's  form,  his  bride.2 
His  kindled  wrath  will  quickly  fall 
On  the  king's  sons  and  burn  them  all. 
This  cleaving  of  the  earth  his  eye 
Foresaw  in  ages  long  gone  by  : 
He  knew  with  prescient  soul  the  fate 
That  Sagar's  children  should  await.' 

The  Three-and-thirty,3  freed  from  fear, 
Sought  their  bright  homes  with  hopeful 

cheer. 

Still  rose  the  great  tempestuous  sound 
As  Sagar's  children  pierced  the  ground. 
When  thus  the  whole  broad  earth  was  cleft, 
And  not  a  spot  unsearched  was  left, 
Back  to  their  home  the  princes  sped, 
And  thus  unto  their  father  said  : 

*  We  searched  the  earth  from  side  to  side, 
While  countless  hosts  of  creatures  died. 
Our  conquering  feet  in  triumph  trod 

On  snake  and  demon,  fiend  and  God  ; 
Hut  yet  we  failed,  with  all  our  toil, 
To  find  the  robber  and  the  spoil. 
What  can  we  more  ?  If  more  we  can, 
Devise,  O  King,  and  tell  thy  plan.' 

His  chidren's  speech  King  Sagar  heard, 
And  answered  thus,  to  anger  stirred  : 

*  Dig  on,  and  ne'er  your  labour  stay 

Till  through  earth's  depths  you  force  your 

way. 

Then  smite  the  robber  dead,  and  bring 
The  charger  back  with  triumphing.' 


1  Here  used  as  a  name  of  Vishnu 

*  Kings  are  called  the  husbands  of  their 
kingdoms  or  of  the  earth  ;  'She  and  hia 
kingdom  were  his  only  birdes.'  Raghuvahsa. 

'Doubly  divorced  !  Bad  men,  you  violate 

A  double  marriage,  'twixt  my  c  ro  wn  and  me, 

And  then  between  me  and  my  married  wife.' 

King  Richard  II.  Act  V.  Sc.  I. 

3  The  thirty-three  Gods  are  said  in  the 
Aitareya  Brahmana,~Book  I.  ch.  II.  10.  to 
be  the  eight  Vasus,  the  eleven  Rudras,  the 
twelve  Adityas,  Prajapati,  either  Brahma 
or  Daksha,  and  Vashatkara  or  deified 
oblation.  This  must  have  been  the  actual 
number  at  the  beginning  of  the  Vedic 
religion  gradually  increased  by  successive 
mythical  and  religious  creations  till  the 
Indian  Pantheon  was  crowded  with  abs- 
tractions of  every  kind.  Through  the  re- 
verence with  which  the  words  of  the  Veda 
were  regarded,  the  immense  host  of  mul- 
tiplied divinities,  in  later  tinus,  still  bore 
the  name  of  the  Thirty-three  Gois. 


5.2 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


The  sixty  thousand  chiefs  obeyed  : 
Deep  through  the  earth  their  way  they 

made. 

Deep  as  they  dug  and  deeper  yet 
The  immortal  elephant  they  met, 
Famed  Virupaksha1  vast  of  size, 
Upon  whose  head  the  broad  earth  lies  : 
The  mighty  beast  who  earth  sustains 
With  shaggy  hills  and  wooded  plains. 
When,  with  the  changing  moon,  distressed, 
And  longing  for  a  moment's  rest, 
His  mighty  head  the  monster  shakes, 
Earth  to  the  bottom  reels  and  quakes. 
Around  that  warder  strong  and  vast 
With  reverential  steps  they  passed, 
Nor,  when  the  honour  due  was  paid, 
Their    downward    search  through  earth 

delayed. 

But  turning  from  the  east  aside 
Southward  again  their  task  they  plied. 
There  Mahapadma  held  his  place, 
The  best  of  all  his  mighty  race, 
Like  some  huge  hill,  of  monstrous  girth, 
Upholding  on  his  head  the  earth, 
When  the  vast  beast  the  princes  saw, 
They  marvelled  and  were  tilled  with  awe. 
The  sons  of  high-souled  Sagar  round 
That  elephant  in  reverence  wound. 
Then  in  the  western  region  they 
With  might  unwearied  cleft  their  way. 
There  saw  they  with  astonisht  eyes 
Saumanas,  beast  of  mountain  size. 
Round  him  with  circling  steps  they  went 
With  greetings  kind  and  reverent. 

On,  on— no  thought  of  rest  or  stay—- 
They reached  the  seat  of  Soma's  sway. 
There  saw  they  Bhadra,  white  as  snow, 
With  lucky  marks  that  fortune  show, 
Bearing  the  earth  upon  his  head. 
J\ound  him  they  paced  with  solemn  tread, 


i  *  One  of  the  elephants  which,  accor- 
ding to  an  ancient  belief  popular  in  India. 
supported  the  earth  with  their  enormous 
backs  ;  when  one  of  these  elephants  shook 
his  wearied  head  the  earth  trembled  with 
its  woods  and  hills.  An  idea,  or  rather  a 
mythical  fancy,  similar  to  this,  but  re- 
duced to  proportions  less  grand,  is  found 
in  Virgil  wben  he  speaks  of  Enceladus 
buried  under  JKtna,  : 

Farna  est  Enceladi  semiustum  fulmine 
corrjus 

Urgeri  mole  hac,  ingentemque   insuper 


Impositam,  ruptis    flammam    expirare 

caminis  ; 
Et  fessum  quoties  mutat  latus,   intre 

mere  omnem 
jyiurmure  Trinacriam,  etcoelum  subtexere 

f  umo,'  ^Eneid.  Lib,  III,  GORRESIO. 


And  honoured  him  with  greetings  kind  ; 
Then  downward  yet  their  way  they  mined. 
They  gained  the  tract  'twixt  east  and  north 
Whose  fame  is  ever  blazoned  forth,1 
And  by  a  storm  of  rage  impelled, 
Digging  through  earth  their   course  they 

held. 

Then  all  the  princes,  lofty- souled, 
Of   wondrous  vigour,  strong  and  bold. 
Saw  Vasudeva2  standing  there 
In  Kapil's  form  he  loved  to  wear, 
And  near  the  everlasting  God 
The  victim  charger  cropped  the  sod. 
They  saw  with  joy  and  eager  eyes 
The  fancied  robber  and  the  prize, 
And  on  him  rushed  the  furious  band 
Crying  aloud,  Stand,  villain  !  stand  ! 
'  Avaunt !  avaunt !'  great  Kapil  criedr 
His  bosom  flusht  with  passion's  tide  ; 
Then  by  his  might  that  proud  array 
All  scorcht  to  heaps  of  ashes  lay.3 

CANTO  XLIL 


SAGAR'S  SACRIFICE. 

Then  to  the  prince  his  grandson,  bright 
With  his  own  fame's  unborrowed  light, 
King  Sagar  thus  began  to  say. 
Marvelling  at  his  sons'  delay  : 
'  Thou  art  a  warrior  skilled  and  bold, 
Match  for  the  mighty  men  of  old. 
Now  follow  on  thine  uncles'  course 
And  tracK  the  robber  of  the  horse. 


1  'The   Devas   and    Asuras   (Gods  and 
Titans)  fought  in  the  east,  the  south,  the 
west,  and  the  north,  and  the   Devas  were 
defeated  by  the  Asuras  in  all  these  direc- 
tions.    They   then   fought  in   the  north- 
eastern direction  ;  there  the  Devas  did  not 
sustain  defeat.  This  direction  isapardjitd, 
i.  e.  unconquerable.  Thence  one  should  do 
work   in  this  direction,  and  have  it  done 
there  :  for  such  a  one  (alone)  is  able  to 
c  lear  off  his  debts.'  H  AUG'S  Aitareya  Brdh- 
man  am,  Vol  11.,  p.  33. 

The  debts  here  spoken  of  are  a  man's  re- 
ligious obligations  to  the  Gods,  the  Pitaraa 
or  Manes,  and  men. 

2  Vishnu, 

3  '  It  appears  to  me  that  this  mythical 
story  has  reference  to  the  volcanic  pheno- 
mena of  nature.      Kapil  may   very   pos- 
sibly be  that  hidden  riery  force  which  sud- 
denly imprisons  itself   and  bursts   forth 
in   volcanic   effects.     Kapil  is,  moreover, 
one  of   the  names  of  Agni  the  God  of 
Fire.'    GORRESIO. 


Canto  XLIIT. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


53 


To  guard  thee  take  thy  sword  and  bow, 
For  huge  and  strong  are  beasts  below, 
There  to  the  reverend  reverence  pay, 
And  kill  the  foes  who  check  thy  way  ; 
Then  turn  successful  home  and  see 
My  sacrifice  complete  through  thee.' 

Obedient  to  the  high-souled  lord 
Grasped  Ansuman  his  bow  and  sword, 
And  hurried  forth  the  way  to  trace 
With  youth  and  valour's  eager  pace. 
On  sped  he  by  the  path  he  found 
Dug  by  his  uncles  underground, 
The  warder  elephant  he  saw 
Whose  size  and  strength  pass  Nature's  law, 
Who  bears  the  world's  tremendous  weight, 
Whom  God,  fiend,  giant  venerate, 
Bird,  serpent,  and  each  flitting  shade. 
To  him  the  honour  meet  he  paid 
With  circling  steps  and  greeting  due, 
And  further  prayed  him,  if  he  knew, 
To  tell  him  of  his  uncles'  weal, 
And  who  had  dared  the  horse  to  steal. 
To  him  in  war  and  council  tried 
The  warder  elephant  replied  : 

*  Thou,  son  of  Asamanj,  shalt  lead 
In  triumph  back  the  rescued  steed.' 

As  to  each  warder  beast  he  came 
And  questioned  all.  his  words  the  same, 
The  honoured  youth  with  gentle  speech 
Drew  eloquent  reply  from  each, 
That  fortune  should  his  steps  attend, 
And  with  the  horse  he  home  should  wend. 
Cheered  with  the  grateful  answer,  he 
Passed  on  with  step  more  light  and  free, 
And  reached  with  careless  heart  the  place 
Where  lay  in  ashes  Sagar's  race. 
Then  sank  the  spirit  of  the  chief 
Beneath  that  shock  of  sudden  grief, 
And  with  a  bitter  cry  of  woe 
He  mourned  his  kinsmen  fallen  so. 
He  saw,  weighed  down  by  woe  and  care, 
The  victim  charger  roaming  there. 
Yet  would  the  pious  chieftain  fain 
Oblations  offer  to  the  slain  : 
But,  needing  water  for  the  rite, 
He  looked  and  there  was  none  insight. 
His  quick  eye  searching  all  around 
The  unole  of  his  kinsmen  found. 
King  Garud,  best  beyond  compare 
Of  birds  who  wing  the  fields  of  air. 
Then  thus  unto  the  weeping  man 
The  son  of  Vinata1  began  : 

*  Grieve  not,  O  hero,  for  their  fall 
Who  died  a  death  approved  of  all. 

Of  mighty  strength,  they  met  their  fate 
By  Kapil's  hand  whom  none  can  mate. 
Pour  forth  for  them  no  earthly  wave, 


1  Garud  was  the  son   of  Kasyap  and 
Vinata. 


A  holier  flood  their  spirits  crave. 
If,  daughter  of  the  Lord  of  Snow, 
Ganga  would  turn  her  stream  below, 
Her  waves  that  cleanse  all  mortal  stain 
Would  wash  their  ashes  pure  again. 
Yea,  when  her  flood  whom  all  revere 
Rolls  o'er  the  dust  that  moulders  here> 
The  sixty  thousand,  freed  from  sin, 
A  home  in  Indra's  heaven  shall  win. 
Go,  and  with  ceaseless  labour  try 
To  draw  the  Goddess  from  the  sky. 
Return,  and  with  thee  take  the  steed  * 
So  shall  thy  grandsire's  rite  succeed.' 

Prince  Ansuman  the  strong  and  braze 
Followed  the  rede  Suparna1  gave. 
The  glorious  hero  took  the  horse, 
And  homeward  quickly  bent  his  course. 
Straight  to  the  anxious  king  he  hied, 
Whom  lustral  rites  had  purified, 
The  mournful  story  to  unfold 
And  all  the  king  of  birds  had  told. 
The  tale  of  woe  the  monarch  heard, 
Nor  longer  was  the  rite  deterred : 
With  care  and  just  observance  he 
Accomplished  all.  as  texts  decree. 
The  rites  performed,  with  brighter  fame* 
Mighty  in  counsel,  home  he  came. 
He  longed  to  bring  the  river  down, 
But  found  no  plan  his  wish  to  crown. 
He  pondered  long  with  anxious  thought, 
But  saw  no  way  to  what  he  sought. 
Thus  thirty  thousand  years  he  spent, 
And  then  to  heaven  the  monarch  went* 


CANTO  XLIIL 


BHAGIRATH. 

When  Sagar  thus  had  bowed  to  fate, 
The  lords  and  commons  of  the  state 
Approved  with  ready  heart  and  will 
Prince  Ansuman  his  throne  to  fill. 
He  ruled,  a  mighty  king,  unblamed, 
Sire  of  Dilipa  justly  famed. 
To  him.  his  child  and  worthy  heir, 
The  king  resigned  his  kingdom's  care, 
And  on  Himalaya's  pleasant  side 
His  task  austere  of  penance  plied. 
Bright  as  a  God  in  clear  renown 
He  planned  to  bring  pure  Ganga  down. 
There  on  his  fruitless  hope  intent 
Twice  sixteen  thousand  years  he  spent, 
And  in  the  grove  of  hermits  stayed 
Till  bliss  in  heaven  his  rites  repaid. 
Dilipa  then,  the  good  and  great, 
Soon  as  he  learnt  his  kinsmen's  fate, 
Bowed  down  by  woe,  with  troubled  mind, 

«  Garud. 


54 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  I. 


Pondering  long  no  cure  could  find  . 

'  How  can  I  bring,'  the  mourner  sighed, 

'To  cleanse  their  dust,  the  heavenly  tide? 

How  can  I  give  them  rest,  and  save 

Their  spirits  with  the  offered  wave?' 

Long  with  this  thought  his  bosom  skilled 

In  holy  discipline  was  tilled. 

A  son  was  born,  Bhagirath  named, 

Above  all  men  for  virtue  famed. 

Dilipa  many  a  rite  ordained, 

And  thirty  thousand  seasons  reigned. 

But  when  no  hope  the  king  could  see 

His  kinsmen  from  their  woe  to  free, 

The  lord  of  men,  by  sickness  tried, 

Obeyed  the  law  of  fate,  and  died ; 

He  left  the  kingdom  to  his  son, 

And  gained  the  heaven  his  deeds  had  won 

The  good  Bhagirath,  royal  sage, 

Had  no  fair  son  to  cheer  his  age. 

He,  great  in  glory,  pure  in  will, 

Longing  for  sons  was  childless  still. 

Then  on  one  wish,  one  thought  intent, 

Planning  the  heavenly  stream's  descent, 

Leaving  his  ministers  the  care 

And  burden  of  his  state  to  bear, 

Dwelling  in  far  Gokarna1  he 

Engaged  in  long  austerity. 

With  senses  checked,  with  arms  upraised, 

Five  tires2  around  and  o'er  him  blazed. 

Each  weary  month  the  hermit  passed 

Breaking  but  once  his  awful  fast. 

In  winter's  chill  the  brook  his  bed, 

In  rain,  the  clouds  to  screen  his  head. 

Thousands  of  years  he  thus  endured 

lill  Brahma's  favour  was  assured, 

And  the  high  Lord  of  living  things 

Looked  kindly  on  his  sufferings. 

With  trooping  Gods  the  Sire  came  near 

T  he  king  who  plied  his  task  austere  ; 

*  Blest  Monarch,  of  a  glorious  race, 

Thy  fervent  rites  have  won  my  grace. 

Well  hast  thou  wrought  thine  awful  task  : 

Some  boon  in  turn,  O  Hermit,  ask.' 

Bhagirath,  rich  in  glory's  light, 
The  hero  with  the  arm  of  might, 
Thus  to  the  Lord  of  earth  and  sky 
Raised  suppliant  hands  and  made  reply  : 
'  If  the  great  God  his  favour  deigns, 
And  my  long  toil  its  fruit  obtains, 
Let  Sagar's  sons  receive  from  me 
Libations  that  they  long  to  see. 
Let  Ganga  with  her  holy  wave 
The  ashes  of  the  heroes  lave, 
That  so  my  kinsmen  may  ascend 
To  heavenly  bliss  that  ne'er  shall  end. 
And  give,  I  pray,  O  God,  a  son, 
Nor  let  my  house  be  all  undone. 

1  A  famous  and  venerated  region    near 
the  Malabar  coast. 

2  That  is  four  tires  and  the  sun. 


Sire  of 'the  worlds  !  be  this  the  grace 
Bestowed  upon  Ikshvaku's  race.' 

The  Sire,  when  thus  the  king  had  prayed, 
In  sweet  kind  words  his  answer  made  : 
'  High,  high  thy  thought  arid  wishes  are, 
Bhagirath  of  the  mighty  car  ! 
Ikshvaku's  line  is  blest  in  thee, 
And  as  thou  prayest  it  shall  be. 
Uanga,  whose  waves  in  Swarga1  flow, 
Js  daughter  of  the  Lord  of  8now. 
Win  Siva  that  his  aid  be  lent 
To  hold  her  in  her  mid  descent, 
B^or  earth  alone  will  never  bear 
Those  torrents  hurled  from  upper  air  ; 
And  none  may  hold  her  weight  but  He, 
The  Trident  wielding  deity.' 
Thus  having  said,  the  Lord  supreme 
Addressed  him  to  the  heavenly  stream  ; 
And  then  with  Gods  and   Maruts*  went 
To  heaven  above  the  firmament. 


CANTO  XLIV. 


THE  DESCENT  OF  GANGA'. 

The  Lord  of  life  the  skies  regained  : 

he  fervent  king  a  year  remained 
With  arms  upraised,  refusing  rest 
While  with  one  toe  the  earth  he  pressed, 
Still  as  a  post,  with  sleepless  eye, 
The  air  his  food,  his  roof  the  sky. 
The  year  had  past.    Then  Uma's  lord,3 
King  of  creation,  world -adored, 
Thus  spoke  to  great  Bhagirath  :  '  I 
Well  pleased  thy  wish  will  gratify, 
And  on  my  head  her  waves  shall  fling 
The  daughter  of  the  Mountains'  King  ! ' 
He  stood  upon  the  lofty  crest 

That  crowns  the  Lord  of  Snow, 
And  bade  the  river  of  the  Blest 

Descend  on  earth  below. 
Himalaya's  child,  adored  of  all, 

The  haughty  mandate  heard, 
And  her  proud  bosom,  at  the  call, 

With  furious  wrath  was  stirred. 
Down  from  her  channel  in  the  skies 

With  awful  might  she  sped 
With  a  giant's  rush,  in  a  giaut's  size, 

On  Diva's  holy  head. 
*  He  calls  me,'  in  her  wrath  she  cried, 

'And  all  my  flood  shall  sweep 
And  whirl  him  in  its  whelmingjtide 

To  hell's  prof  oundest  deep. 
He  held  the  river  on  his  head, 

And  kept  her  wandering,  where, 
Dense  as  Himalaya's  woods,  were  spread 

The  tangles  of  his  hair. 


i  Heaveu.      2  Wiud-Goda.      3  Siva. 


Canto  XLIV. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


55 


No  way  to  earth  she  found,  ashamed, 

Though  long  and  sore  she  strove, 
Condemned,  until  her  pride  were  tamed, 

Amid  his  locks  to  rove. 
There,  many  lengthening  seasons  through, 

The  wildered  river  ran  : 
Bhagirath  saw  it,  and  anew 

His  penance  dire  began. 
Then  £iva,  for  the  hermit's  sake, 

Bade  her  long  wanderings  end, 
And  sinking  into  Vindu's  lake 

Her  weary  waves  descend, 
From  Ganga,  by  the  God  set  free, 

Seven  noble  rivers  came  ; 
Hladini,  Pavarii,  and  she 

Called  Nalini  by  name  : 
These  rolled  their  lucid  waves  along 

And  sought  the  eastern  side. 
Suchakshu,  Sita  fair  and  strong, 

And  Sindhu's  mighty  tide — * 
These  to  the  region  of  the  west 

With  joyful  waters  sped  : 
The  seventh,  the  brightest  and  the  best, 

Flowed  where  Bhagirath  led. 
On  Diva's  head  descending  first 

A  rest  the  torrents  found  ; 
Then  down  in  all  their  might  they  burst 

And  roared  along  the  ground. 
On  countless  glittering  scales  the  beam 

Of  rosy  morning  flashed, 
Where  fish  and  dolphins  through  the  stream 

Fallen  and  falling  dashed. 
Then  bards  who  chant  celestial  lays 

And  nymphs  of  heavenly  birth 
Flocked  round  upon  that  flood  to  gaze 

That  streamed  from  sky  to  earth. 
The  Gods  themselves  from  every  sphere, 

Incomparably  bright, 
Borne  in  their  golden  cars  drew  near 

To  see  the  wondrous  sight. 
The  cloudless  sky  was  all  aflame 

With  the  light  of  a  hundred  suns 
Where'er  the  shining  chariots  came 

That  bore  those  holy  ones. 
So  flashed  the  air  with  crested  snakes 

And  fish  of  every  hue 
As  when  the  lightning's  glory  breaks 

Through  fields  of  summer  blue. 
And  white  foam-clouds  and  silver  spray 

Were  wildly  tossed  on  high, 
Like  swans  that  urge  their  homeward  way 

Across  the  autumn  sky. 
Now  ran  the  river  calm  and  clear 

With  current  strong  and  deep  : 


1  The  lake  Vindu  does  not  exist.  Of  the 
seven  rivers  here  mentioned  two  only,  the 
Ganges  and  the  Sindhu  or  Indus,  are 
known  to  geographers.  Hladini  means  the 
Oladdener,  Pavani the  Purifier,  Nalini  the 
Lotus -clad,  and  Suchakshu  the  Fair-eyed. 
5 


Now  slowly  broadened  to  a  mere, 

Or  scarcely  seemed  to  creep. 
Now  o'er  a  length  of  sandy  plain 

Her  tranquil  course  she  held  ; 
Now  rose  her  waves  and  sank  again, 

By  refluent  waves  repelled. 
So  falling  first  on  Diva's  head, 
Thence  rushing  to  their  earthly  bed, 
In  ceaseless  fall  the  waters  streamed, 
And  pure  with  holy  lustre  gleamed. 
Then  every  spirit,  sage,  and  bard, 
Condemned  to  earth  by  sentence  hard, 
Pressed  eagerly  around  the  tide 
That  Siva's  touch  had  sanctified. 
Then  they  whom   heavenly    doom    had 

hurled, 

Accursed,  to  this  lower  world, 
Touched  the  pure  wave,  and  freed  from  sin 
Resought  the  skie.s  and  entered  in. 
And  all  the  world  was  glad,  whereon 
The  glorious  water  flowed  an!  shone, 
For  sin  and  stain  were  banished  thence 
By  the  sweet  river's  influence. 
First,  in  a  car  of  heavenly  frame, 
The  royal  saint  of  deathless  name, 
Bhagirath,  very  glorious  rode, 
And  after  him  fair  Ganga  flowed. 
God,  sage  ,  and  bard,  the  chief  in  place 
Of  spirits  and  the  Naga  race, 
Nymph,  giant,  fiend,  in  long  array 
Sped  where  Bhagirath  led  the  way; 
And  all  the  hosts  the  flood  that  swim 
Followed  the  stream  that  followed  him. 
Where'er  the  great  Bhagirath  led, 
There  ever  glorious  Ganga  fled, 
The  best  of  floods,  the  rivers'  queen, 
Whose  waters  wash  the  wicked  clean. 

It  chanced  that  Jahnu,  great  and  good, 
Engaged  with  holy  offerings  stood; 
The  river  spread  her  waves  around 
Flooding  his  sacrificial  ground. 
The  saint  in  anger  marked  her  pride, 
And  at  one  draught  her  stream  he  dried. 
Then  God,  and  sa^e,  and  bard,  afraid, 
To  noble  high-souled  Jahnu  prayed, 
And  begged  that  he  would  kindly  deem 
His  own  dear  child  that  holy  stream. 
Moved  by  their  suit,  he  soothed  their  fears 
And  loosed  her  waters  from  his  ears. 
Hence  Ganga  through  the  world  is  styled 
Both  Jahnavi  and  Jahnu's  child. 
Then  onward  still  she  followed  fast, 
And  reached  the  great  sea  bank  at  last. 
Thence  deep  below  her  way  she  made 
To  end  those  rites  so  long  delayed. 
The  monarch  reached  the  Ocean's  side, 
And  still  behind  him  Ganga  hied. 
He  sought  the  depths  which  open  lay 
Where  Sagar's  sons  had  dug  their  way. 
So  leading  through  earth's  nether  caves 
The  river's  purifying  waves, 


56 


THE  RAMADAN. 


Book  I. 


Over  his  kinsmen's  dust  the  lord 
His  funeral  libation  poured. 
Soon  as  the  flood  their  dust  bedewed, 
Their  spirits  gained  beatitude, 
And  all  in  heavenly  bodies  dressed 
Hose  to  the  skies'  eternal  rest. 

Then  thus  to  King  Bhagirath  said 
Brahma,  when,  coming  at  the  head 
Of  all  his  bright  celestial  train, 
He  saw  those  spirits  freed  from  stain  : 
'  Well  done  !  great  Prince  of  men,  well 

done ! 

Thy  kinsmen  bliss  and  heaven  have  won. 
The  sons  of  Sagar  mighty-souled, 
Are  with  the  Blest,  as  Gods,  enrolled. 
Long  as  the  Ocean's  flood  shall  stand 
Upon  the  border  of  the  land, 
So  long  shall  Sagar's  sons  remain. 
And,  godlike,  rank  in  heaven  retain. 
Ganga  thine  eldest  child  shall  be, 
Called  from  thy  name  Bhagirathi ; 
Named  also— for  her  waters  fell 
From  heaven  and  flow  through  earth  and 

hell— 

Tripathaga,  stream  of  the  skies, 
Because  three  paths  she  glorifies. 
And,  mighty  King,  'tis  given  thee  now 
To  free  thee  and  perform  thy  vow. 
No  longer,  happy  Prince,  delay 
Drink-offerings  to  thy  kin  to  pay. 
For  this  the  holiest  Sagar  sighed, 
But  mourned  the  boon  he  sought  denied. 
Then  Ansuman,  dear  Prince  !  although 
No  brighter'name  the  world  could  show, 
Strove  long  the  heavenly  flood  to  gain 
To  visit  earth,  but  strove  in  vain. 
Nor  was  she  by  the  sages'  peer, 
Blest  with  all  virtues,  most  austere, 
Thy  sire  Dili  pa,  hither  brought, 
Though  with  fierce  prayers  the  boon  he 

sought. 

But  thou,  O  King,  earned  success, 
And  won  high  fame  which  God  will  bless. 
Through  thee,  O  victor  of  thy  foes, 
On  earth  this  heavenly  Ganga  flows, 
And  thou  hast  gained  the  meed  divine 
That  waits  on  virtue  such  as  thine. 
Now  in  her  ever  holy  wave 
Thyself,  O  best  of  heroes,  lave : 
So  shalt  thou,  pure  from  every  sin, 
The  blessed  fruit  of  merit  win. 
Now  for  thy  kin  who  died  of;yore 
The  meet  libations  duly  pour. 
Above  the  heavens  I  now  ascend : 
Depart,  and  bliss  thy  steps  attend.' 

Thus  to  the  mighty  king  who  broke 
His  foemens'  might,  Lord  Brahma  spoke, 
Arid  with  his  Gods  around  him  rose 
To  his  own  heaven  of  blest  repose. 
The  royal  sage  no  more  delayed, 


But,  the  libation  duly  paid, 
Home  to  his  regal  city  hied 
With  water  cleansed  and  purified. 
There  ruled  he  his  ancestral  state, 
Best  of  all  men,  most  fortunate. 
And  all  the  people  joyed  again 
In  good  Bhagirath's  gentle  reign. 
Kich,  prosperous,  and  blest  were  they, 
And  grief  and  sickness  fled  away. 
Thus,  Kama,  I  at  length  have  told 
How  Ganga  came  from  heaven  of  old. 
Now,  for  the  evening  passes  swift, 
I  wish  thee  each  auspicious  gift. 
This  story  of  the  flood's  descent 
Will  give— for  'tis  most  excellent- 
Wealth,  purity,  fame,  length  of  days, 
And  to  the  skies  its  hearers  raise.' 

CANTO  XLV. 


THE  QUEST  OP  THE  AMRIT. 

High  and  more  high  their  wonder  rose 
As  the  strange  story  reached  its  close, 
And  thus,  with  Lakshman,  Rama,  best 
Of  Raghu's  sons,  the  saint  addressed  : 
'  Most  wondrous  is  the  tale  which  thou 
Hast  told  of  heavenly  Gan^a,  how 
From  realms  above  descending  she 
Flowed  through  the  land  and  rilled  the  sea. 
In  thinking  o'er  what  thou  hast  said 
The  night  has  like  a  moment  fled, 
Whose  hours  in  musing  have  been  spent 
Upon  thy  words  most  excellent : 
So  much,  O  holy  Sage,  thy  lore 
Has  charmed  us  with  this  tale  of  yore.' 

Day  da \vned.  The  morning  rites  were  done 
And  the  victorious  Raghu's  son 
Addressed  the  sage  in  words  like  these, 
Rich  in  his  long  austerities  : 
'  The  night  is  past :  the  morn  is  clear  ; 
Told  is  the  tale  so  good  to  hear  ; 
Now  o'er  that  river  let  us  go, 
Three-pathed,  the  best  of  all  that  flow. 
This  boat  stands  ready  on  the  shore 
To  bear  the  holy  hermits  o'er. 
Who  of  thy  coming  warned,  in  haste, 
The  barge  upon  the  bank  have  placed.' 

And  Kusik's  son  approved  his  speech, 
And  moving  to  the  sandy  beach, 
Placed  in  the  boat  the  hermit  band, 
And  reached  the  river's  farther  strand. 
On  the  north  bank  their  feet  they  set, 
And  greeted  all  the  saints  they  met, 
On  Ganga's  shore  they  lighted  down, 
And  saw  Visala's  lovely  town. 
Thither,  the  princes  by  his  side, 
The  best  of  holy  hermits  hied. 
It  was  a  town  exceeding  fair 


Canto  XLV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


57 


That  might  with  heaven  itself  compare. 
Then,  suppliant  palm  to  palm  applied, 
Famed  Rama  asked  hia  holy  guide : 
'  O  best  of  hermits,  say  what  race 
Of  monarchs  rules  this  lovely  place. 
Dear  master,  let  my  prayer  prevail, 
For  much  I  long  to  hear  the  tale.' 
Moved  by  his  words,  the  saintly  man 
Visala's  ancient  tale  began  : 
4  List,  Rama,  list,  with  closest  heed 
The  tale  of  Indra's  wondrous  deed, 
And  mark  me  as  I  truly  tell 
What  here  in  ancient  days  befell. 
Ere  Krita's  famous  Age1  had  fled, 
Strong  were  the  sons  of  Diti2  bred  ; 
And  Aditi's  brave  children  too 
Were  very  mighty,  good,  and  true. 
The  rival  brothers  fierce  and  bold 
Were  sons  of  Kasyap  lofty-souled, 
Of  sister  mothers  born,  they  vied, 
Brood  against  brood,  in  jealous  pride. 
Once,  as  they  say,  band  met  with  band, 
And,  joined  in  awful  council,  planned 
To  live,  unharmed  by  age  and  time, 
Immortal  in  their  youthful  prime. 
Then  this  was,  after  due  debate, 
The  counsel  of  the  wise  and  great, 
To  churn  with  might  the  milky  sea3 
The  life-bestowing  drink  to  free. 
This  pi anned ,  they  seized  the  Serpent  King, 
Vasuki,  for  their  churning- string, 
And  Mandar's  mountain  for  their  pole, 
And  churned  with  all  their  heart  and  soul. 
As  thus,  a  thousand  seasons  through, 
This  way  and  that  the  snake  they  drew, 
Biting  the  rocks,  each  tortured  head 
A  very  deadly  venom  shed. 
Thence,  bursting  like  a  mighty  flame, 
A  pestilential  poison  came, 
Consuming,  as  it  onward  ran, 
The  home  of  God,  and  fiend,  and  man. 
Then  all  the  suppliant  Gods  in  fear 
To  $ankar,4  mighty  lord,  drew  near. 
To  Rudra,  King  of  Herds,  dismayed, 
'  Save  us,  O  save  us,  Lord  !'  they  prayed. 
Then  Vishnu,  bearing  shell,  and  mace, 
And  discus,  showed  his  radiant  face, 
And  thus  addressed  in  smiling  glee 
The  Trident-wielding  deity  : 
What  treasure  first  the  Gods  upturn 
From  troubled  Ocean,  as  they  churn, 
Should— for  thou  art  the  eldest— be 
Conferred,  O  best  of  Gods,  on  thee. 

1  The  first  or  Golden  Age. 

2  Diti  and  Aditi  were  wives  of  Kasyap, 
and  mothers  respectively  of  Titans   and 
Gods. 

3  One  of  the  seven  seas  surrounding  as 
many  worlds  in  concentric  rings. 

4  &ankar  and  Rudra  are  names  of  Siva, 


Then  come,  and  for  thy  birthright's  sake, 
This  venom  as  thy  firstfruits  take.' 
He  spoke,  and  vanished  from  their  sight. 
When  £iva  saw  their  wild  affright, 
And  heard  his  speech  by  whom  is  born* 
The  mighty  bow  of  bending  horn,1 
The  poisoned  flood  at  once  he  quaffed 
As  'twere  the  Amrit's  heavenly  draught. 
Then  from  the  Gods  departing  went 
f§iva,  the  Lord  pre-eminent. 
The  host  of  Gods  and  Asurs  still 
Kept  churning  with  one  heart  and  will. 
But  Mandar's  mountain,  whirling  round, 
Pierced  to  the  depths  below  the  ground. 
Then  Gods  and  bards  in  terror  flew 
To  him  who  mighty  Madhu  slew. 
'  Help  of  all  beings  !  more  than  all, 
The  Gods  on  thee  for  aid  may  call. 
Ward  off,  0  mighty- armed  !  our  fate, 
And  bear  up  Mandar's  threatening  weight,' 
Then  Vishnu,  as  their  need  was  sore, 
The  sembla'nce  of  a  tortoise  wore, 
And  in  the  bed  of  Ocean  lay 
The  mountain  on  his  back  to  stay. 
Then  he,  the  soul  pervading  all, 
Whose  locks  in  radiant  tresses  fall, 
One  mighty  arm  extended  still, 
And  grasped  the  summit  of  the  hill. 
So  ranged  among  the  Immortals,  he 
Joined  in  the  churning  of  the  sea. 

A  thou  sand  years  had  reached  their  close, 
When  calmly  from  the  ocean  rose 
The  gentle  sage54  with  staff  and  can, 
Lord  of  the  art  of  healing  man. 
Then  as  the  waters  foamed  and  boiled, 
As  churning  still  the  Immortals  toiled, 
Of  winning  face  and  lovely  frame, 
Forth  sixty  million  fair  ones  came. 
Born  of  the  foam  and  water,  these 
Were  a}  tly  namtd  Apsarases.3 


1  '  Sdrngin.  literally  carrying  a  bow  of 
horn,  is  a  constantly  recurring  name  of 
Vishnu.      The    Indians    also,    therefore, 
knew* the  art  of  making  bows  out  of  the 
horns  of  antelopes  or  wild  goats,  which 
Homer  ascribes  to  the    Trojans  of    the 
heroic  age.'    SCHLEGEL. 

2  Dhanvantari,    the    physician  of    the 
Gods. 

3  The  poet  plays  upon  the  word  and 
fancifully  derives  it  from  apsu,  the  loca- 
tive case  plural  of  ap,  water,  and  rasa, 

taste The  word  is  probably  derived 

from  ap,  water,  and  sri,  to  go,  and  seems 
to  signify  inhabitants  of  the  water,  nymphs 
of  the  stream  ;  or,  as  Goldstiicker  thinks 
(Diet.  s.  v.)  these  divinities  were  originally 
personifications  of  the  vapours  which  are 
attracted  by  the  sun  and  form  into  inist 
or  clouds, 


58 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


Each  had  her  maids.    The  tongue  would 

fail- 
So  vast  the  throng— to  count  the  tale. 
But  when  no  God  or  Titan  wooed 
A  wife  from  all  that  multitude, 
Refused  by  all,  they  gave  their  love 
In  common  to  the  Gods  above. 
Then  from  the  sea  still  vext  and  wild 
Rose  Sura,1  Varun's  maiden  child, 
A  fitting  match  she  sought  to  find  : 
But  Diti's  sons  her  love  declined, 
Their  kinsmen  of  the  rival  brood 
To  the  pure  maid  in  honour  sued. 
Hence  those  who  loved  that  nymph  so  fair 
The  hallowed  name  of  Suras  bear. 
And  Asurs  are  the  Titan  crowd 
Her  gentle  claims  who  disallowed. 
Then  from  the  foamy  sea  was  freed 
Uchchaihsravas,2  the  generous  steed, 
And  Kaustubha,  of  gems  the  gem,8 
And  Soma,  Moon  God,  after  them. 

At  length  when  many  a  year  had  tied, 
Up  floated,  on  her  lotus  bed, 
A  maiden  fair  and  tender-eyed, 
In  the  young  tiush  of  beauty's  pride. 
She  shone  with  pearl  and  golden  sheen, 
And  seals  of  glory  stamped  her  queen. 
On  each  round  arm  glowed  many  a  gem, 
On  her  smooth  brows,  a  diadem. 
Rolling  in  waves  beneath  her  crown 
The  glory  of  her  hair  flowed  down. 
Pearls  on  her  neck  of  price  untold, 
The  lady  shone  like  burnisht  gold. 
Queen  of  the  Gods,  she  leapt  to  land, 
A  lotus  in  her  perfect  hand, 


1  *  Surd,  in  the  feminine  comprehends  all 
sorts  of  intoxicating  liquors,  many  kinds 
of  wnich  the  Indians  from  the  earliest 
times  distilled  and  prepared  from  rice, 
sugar-cane,  the  palm  tree,  and  various 
flowers  and  plants.  Nothing  is  considered 
more  disgraceful  among  orthodox  Hindus 
than  drunkenness,  and  the  use  of  wine  is 
forbidden  not  only  to  Brahmans  but  the 
two  other  orders  as  well... So  it  clearly 
appears  derogatory  to  the  dignity  of  the 
Gods  to  have  received  a  nymph  so  perni- 
cious, who  ought  rather  to  have  been 
made  over  to  the  Titans,  However  the 
etymological  fancy  has  prevailed.  The 
word  Sura,  a  God,  is  derived  from  the 
indeclinable  Srvar  heaven.'  SCHLEGEL. 

a  Literally,  high -eared,  the  horse  of 
Indra.  Compare  the  production  of  the 
horse  from  the  sea  by  Neptune. 

3  '  And  Kaustubha  the  best 

Of  gems  that  burns  with  living  light 

Upon  Lord  Vishnu's  breast.' 

Churning  of  the  Ocean. 


And  fondly,  of  the  lotus-sprung, 

To  lotus-bearing  Vishnu  clung. 

Her  Gods  above  and  men  below 

As  Beauty's  Queen  and  Fortune  know.1 

Gods,  Titans,  and  the  minstrel  train 

Still  churned  and  wrought  the  troubled 

main. 

At  length  the  prize  so  madly  sought, 
The  Amrit,  to  their  sight  was  brought. 
For  the  rich  spoil,  'twixt  these  and  those 
A  fratricidal  war  arose, 
And,  host  'gainst  host  in  battle,  set, 
Aditi's  sons  and  Diti's  met. 
United,  with  the  giants'  aid, 
Their  fierce  attack  the  Titans  made, 
And  wildly  raged  for  many  a  day 
That  universe-astounding  fray. 
When  wearied  arms  were  faint  to  strike, 
And  ruin  threatened  all  alike, 
Vishnu,  with  art's  illusive  aid, 
The  Amrit  from  their  sight  conveyed. 
That  Best  of  Beings  smote  bis  foes 
Who  dared  his  deathless  arm  oppose  : 
Yea,  Vishnu,  all-pervading  God, 
Beneath  his  feet  the  Titans  trod 
Aditi's  race,  the  sons  of  light, 
slew  Diti's  brood  in  cruel  fight. 
Then  town-destroying2  Indra  gained 
His  empire,  and  in  glory  reigned 
O'er  the  three  worlds,  with  bard  and  sage 
Rejoicing  in  his  heritage. 

CANTO  XLVL 


DITI'S  HOPE. 

But  Diti,  when  her  sons  were  slain, 
Wild  with  a  childless  mother's  pain, 
To  Kasyap  spake,  Maricha's  son, 
Her  husband  :  '  O  thou  glorious  one  ! 

1  '  That  this  story  of  the  birth  of  Lak- 
shmi  is  of  considerable  antiquity  is  evident 
from  one  of  hQTraax^esJS.shifdbdhi-tanaydt 
daughter  of  the  Milky  Sea,  which  is  found 
in  Amarasinha  the  most  ancient  of  Indian 
lexicographers.  The  similarity  to  the  Greek 
myth  of  Venus  being  born  from  the  foam 
of  the  sea  is  remarkable.' 

'In  this  description  of  Lakshmi  one 
thing  only  offends  me,  that  she  is  said  to 
have  four  arms.  Each  of  Vishnu's  arms, 
single,  as  far  as  the  elbow,  there  branches 
into  two  ;  but  Lakshmi  in  all  the  brass 
seals  that  I  possess  or  remember  to  have 
seen  has  two  arms  only.  Nor  does  this 
deformity  of  redundant  limbs  suit  the  pat- 
tern of  perfect  beauty.'  SCHLEGEL.  I 
have  omitted  the  offensive  epithet. 

z  Puraudhar,  a  common  title  of  ludra, 


Canto  XLVIL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Dead  are  the  children,  mine  no  more, 
The  mighty  sons  to  thee  I  bore. 
Long  fervour's  meed,  I  crave  a  boy 
Whose  arm  may  Indra's  life  destroy. 
The  toil  and  pain  my  care  shall  be  : 
To  bless  my  hope  depends  on  thee. 
Give  me  a  mighty  son  to  slay 
Fierce  Indra,  gracious  lord  1  I  pray.' 

Then  glorious  Kasyap  thus  replied 
To  Diti,  as  she  wept  and  sighed  : 
'  Thy  prayer  is  heard,  dear  saint  !  Remain 
Pure  from  all  spot,  and  thou  shalt  gain 
A  son  whose  arm  shall  take  the  life 
Of  Indra  in  the  battle  strife. 
For  full  a  thousand  years  endure 
Free  from  all  stain,  supremely  pure  ; 
Then  shall  thy  son  and  mine  appear, 
Whom  the  three  worlds  shall  serve  with 

fear.' 

These  words  the  glorious  Kasyap  said, 
Then  gently  stroked  his  consort's  head, 
Blessed  her,  and  bade  a  kind  adieu, 
And  turned  him  to  his  rites  anew. 
Soon  as  her  lord  had  left  her  side, 
Her  bosom  swelled  with  joy  and  pride. 
She  sought  the  shade  of  holy  boughs, 
And  there  began  her  awful  vows. 
While  yet  she  wrought  her  rites  austere, 
Indra,  unbidden,  hastened  near, 
With  sweet  observance  tending  her, 
A  reverential  minister. 
Wood,  water,  fire,  and  grass  he  brought, 
Sweet  roots  and  woodland  fruit  he  sought, 
And  all  her  wants,  the  Thousand-eyed, 
With  never-failing  care,  supplied, 
With  tender  love  and  soft  caress 
Removing  pain  and  weariness. 

When,  of  the  thousand  years  ordained, 
Ten  only  unfulfilled  remained, 
Thus  to  her  son,  the  Thousand-eyed, 
The  Goddess  in  her  triumph  cried  : 
'Best  of  the  mighty  !  there  remain 
But  ten  short  years  of  toil  and  pain; 
These  years  of  penance  soon  will  flee, 
And  a  new  brother  thou  shalt  see. 
Him  for  thy  sake  I  '11  nobly  breed, 
And  lust  of  war  his  soul  shall  feed  ; 
Then  free  from  care  and  sorrow  thou 
Shalt  see  the  worlds  before  him  bow.'1 

CANTO   XLVII. 


SUM  AT  I. 


Thus  to  Lord  Indra,  Thousand-eyed, 
Softly  beseeching  Diti  sighed. 


When  but  a  blighted  bud  was  left, 
Which  Indra's  hand  in  seven  had  cleft :! 
No  fault.  0  Lord  of  Gods,  is  thine  ; 
The  blame  herein  is  only  mine. 
But  for  one  grace  I  fain  Would  pray, 
As  thou  hast  reft  this  hope  away. 
This  bud,  0  Indra,  which  a  blight 
Has  withered  ere  it  saw  the  light—* 
From  this  may  seven  fair  spirits  rise 
To  rule  the  regions  of  the  skies. 
Be  theirs  through  heaven's   unbounded 

space 

On  shoulders  of  the  winds  to  race, 
My  children,  drest  in  heavenly  forms, 
Far-famed  as  Maruts,  Gods  of  storms. 
One  God  to  Brahma's  sphere  assign, 
Let  one.  O  Indra,  watch  o'er  thine ; 
And  ranging  through  the  lower  air, 
The  third  the  name  of  V^yu54  bear. 
Gods  let  the  four  remaining  be, 
And  roam  through  space,  obeying  thee.1 

The  Town-destroyer,  Thousand-eyed, 
Who  smote  fierce  Bali  till  he  died, 
Joined  suppliant  hands,  and  thus  replied : 
'  Thy  children  heavenly  forms  shall  wear ; 
The  names  devised  by  thee  shall  bear, 
And,  Maruts  called  by  my  decree, 
Shall  Amrit  drink  and  wait  on  me. 
From  fear  and  age  and  sickness  freed, 
Through  the  three   worlds    their   wing3 
shall  speed/ 

Thus  in  the  hermits'  holy  shade 
Mother  and  son  their  compact  made, 
And  then,  as  fame  relates,  content, 
Home  to  the  happy  skies  they  went. 
This  is  the  spot — so  men  have  told — 
Where  Lord  Mahendra3  dwelt  of  old, 
This  is  the  blessed  region  where 
His  votaress  mother  claimed  his  care. 
Here  gentle  Alambusha  bare 
To  old  Ikshvaku,  king  and  sage, 
Visala,  glory  of  his  age, 
Bv  whom,  a  monarch  void  of  guilt, 
Was  this  fair  town  Visala  built. 


1  A  few  verses  are  here  left  untranslated 
on  account  of  the  subject  and  language 
"being  offensive  to  modern  taste, 


i  *  In  this  myth  of  Indra  destrying  the 
unborn  fruit  of  Diti  with  his  thunder- 
bolt, from  which  afterwards  came  the 
Maruts  or  Gods  of  Wind  and  Storm,  geolo- 
gical phenomena  are,  it  seems,  represented 
under  mythical  images.  In  the  great 
Mother  of  the  Gods  is,  perhaps,  figured 
the  dry  earth :  Indra  the  God  of  thunder 
rends  it  open,  and  there  issue  from  its 
rent  bosom  the  Maruts  or  exhalations  of 
the  earth.  But  such  ancient  myths  are  diffi- 
cult to  interpret  with  absolute  certainty.1 
GORRESIO. 

»  Wind. 

3  Indra,  with  m-ahd,  great,  prefixed, 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  1. 


His  son  was  Hemachandra,  still 
Renowned  for  might  arid  warlike  skill. 
From  him  the  great  Suchandra  came  ; 
His  son,  Dhumrasva,  dear  to  fame. 
Next  followed  royal  Srinjay  ;  then 
Famed  Sahadeva,  lord  of  men. 
Next  came  Kusasva,  good  and  mild, 
Whose  son  was  Somadatta  styled, 
And  Sumati,  his  heir,  the  peer 
Of  Gods  above,  now  governs  here. 
And  ever  through  Ikshvaku's  grace, 
Visala's  kings,  his  noble  race, 
Are  lofty-souled,  and  blest  with  length 
Of  days,  with  virtue,  and  with  strength. 
This  night,  O  prince,  we  here  will  sleep  ; 
And  when  the  day  begins  to  peep, 
Our  onward  way  will  take  with  thee, 
The  king  of  Mithila  to  see.' 

Then  Sumati,  the  king,  aware 
Of  Visvamitra's  advent  there, 
Came  quickly  forth  with  honour  meet 
The  lofty-minded  sage  to  greet. 
Girt  with  his  priest  and  lords  the  king 
Did  low  obeisance,  worshipping. 
With  suppliant  hands,  with  head  inclined, 
Thus  spoke  he  after  question  kind  : 
'  Since  thou  hast  deigned  to  bless  my  sight, 

And  grace  awhile  thy  servant's  seat, 
High  fate  is  mine,  great  Anchorite, 

And  none  may  with  my  bliss  compete.' 


CANTO  XLVIII. 


INDRA  AND  AHALYA, 

When  mutual  courtesies  had  past, 
Visala's  ruler  spoke  at  last : 
*  These  princely  youths,  O  Sage,  who  vie 
In  might  with  "children  of  the  sky, 
Heroic,  born  for  happy  fate, 
With  elephants'  or  lions'  gait, 
Bold  as  the  tiger  or  the  bull, 
With  lotus  eyes  so  large  and  full, 
Armed  with  the  quiver,  sword,  and  bow, 
Whose  figures  like  the  Asvins1  show, 
Like  children  of  the  deathless  Powers, 
Come  freely  to  these  shades  of  ours,3 — 
How  have  they  reached  on  foot  this  place  ? 
What  do  they  seek,  and  what  their  race  ? 
As  sun  and  moon  adorn  the  sky, 
This  spot  the  heroes  glorify. 
Alike  in  stature,  port,  and  mien, 
The  same  fair  form  in  each  is  seen.' 

He  spoke  ;  and  at  the  monarch's  call 
The  best  of  hermits  told  him  all, 


1  The  Heavenly  Twins. 
a  Not  banished  from  heaven  as  the  in- 
terior Gods  and  demigods  sometimes  wer  e. 


How  in  the  grove  with  him  they  dwelt, 
And  slaughter  to  the  demons  dealt. 
Then  wonder  filled  the  monarch's  breast, 
Who  tended  well  each  royal  guest. 
Thus  entertained,  the  princely  pair 
Remained  that  night  and  rested  there, 
And  with  the  morn's  returning  ray 
To  Mithila  pursued  their  way. 

When  Janak's  lovely  city  first 
Upon  their  sight,  yet  distant,  burst, 
The  hermits  all  with  joyful  cries 
Hailed  the  fair  town  that  met  their  eyes. 
Then  Rama  saw  a  holy  wood, 
Close,  in  the  city's  neighbourhood, 
O'ergrown,  deserted,  marked  by  age, 
And  thus  addressed  the  mighty  sage  : 
'  O  reverend  lord,  I  long  to  know 
What  hermit  dwelt  here  long  ago.' 
Then  to  the  prince  his  holy  guide, 
Most  eloquent  of  men,  replied  : 
*  O  Rama,  listen  while  I  tell 
Whose  was  this  grove,  and  what  befell 
When  in  the  fury  of  his  rage 
The  high  saint  cursed  the  hermitage. 
This  was  the  grove — most  lovely  then — 
Of  Gautam,  O  thou  best  of  men. 
Like  heaven  itself,  most  honoured  by 
The  Gods  who  dwell  above  the  sky. 
Here  with  Ahalya,  at  his  side 
His  fervid  task  the  ascetic  plied. 
Years  fled  in  thousands.    On  a  day 
It  chanced  the  saint  had  gone  away, 
When  Town-destroying  Indra  came, 
And  saw  the  beauty  of  the  dame. 
The  sage's  form  the  God  endued, 
And  thus  the  fair  Analyst  wooed  : 
'  Love,  sweet !  should  brook  no  dull  delay 
But  snatch  the  moments  when  he  may.' 
She  knew  him  in  the  saint's  disguise, 
Lord  Indra  of  the  Thousand  eyes, 
But  touched  by  love's  unholy  fire, 
She  yielded  to  the  God's  desire. 

'Now,  Lord  of  Gods!'  she  whispered, 

'flee, 

From  Gautam  save  thyself  and  me.' 
Trembling  with  doubt  and  wild  with  dread 
Lord  Indra  from  the  cottage  fled  ; 
But  fleeing  in  the  grove  he  met 
The  home-returning  anchoret, 
Whose  wrath  the  Gods  and  fiends  would 

shun, 

Such  power  his  fervent  rites  had  won. 
Fresh  from  the  lustral  flood  he  came, 
In  splendour  like  the  burning  flame, 
With  fuel  for  his  sacred  rites, 
And  grass,  the  best  of  eremites. 
The  Lord  of  Gods  was  sad  of  cheer 
To  see  the  mighty  saint  so  near, 
And  when  the  holy  hermit  spied 
In  hermit's  garb  the  Thousand-eyed, 


Canto  L. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


61 


He  knew  the  whole,  his  fury  broke 
Forth  on  the  sinner  as  he  spoke  : 

Because  my  form  thou  hast  assumed, 
And  wrought  this  folly,  thou  art  doomed. 
-For  this  my  curse  to  thee  shall  cling, 
Henceforth  a  sad  and  sexless  thing.' 

No  empty  threat  that  sentence  came, 
It  chilled  his  soul  and  marred  his  frame, 
His  might  and  godlike  vigour  fled, 
And  every  nerve  was  cold  and  dead. 

Then  on  his  wife  his  fury  burst, 
And  thus  the  guilty  danie  he  curbed  : 
'For  countless  years,  disloyal  spouse, 
Devoted  to  severest  vows, 
Thy  bed  the  ashes,  air  thy  food, 
Here  shalt  thou  live  in  solitude. 
This  lonely  grove  thy  home  shall  be, 
And  not  an  eye  thy  form  shall  see. 
When  Kama,  Dasaratha's  child, 
Shall  seek  these  shades  then  drear  and  wild, 
His  cjming  shall  remove  thy  stain, 
Aad  make  the  sinner  pure  again. 
Due  honour  paid  to  him.  thy  guest, 
Shall  cleanse  thy  fond  and  erring  breast. 
Thee  to  my  side  in  bliss  restore, 
And  give  thy  proper  shape  once  more.'1 

Thus  to  his  guilty  wife  he  said, 
Then  far  the  holy  Gautam  fled. 
And  on  Himalaya's  lovely  heights 
Spent  the  long  years  in  sternest  rites.' 


CANTO  XLIX. 

AHALYA  FREED. 



Then  Kama,  following  still  his  guide, 
Within  the  grove,  with  Lakshman,  hied. 
Her  vows  a  wondrous  light  had  lent 
To  that  illustrious  penitent. 
He  saw  the  glorious  lady,  screened 
From  eye  of  man,  and  Grod.  and  liend, 
Like  some  bright  portent  which  the  care 
Of  Brahma  launches  through  the  air, 
Designed  by  his  illusive  art 
To  flash  a  moment  and  depart  : 
Or  like  the  flame  that  leaps  on  high 
To  sink  involved  in  smoke  and  die  : 

1  '  Rumania  says:  'In  the  same  manner, 
if  it  is  said  that  Indra  was  the  seducer  of 
Ahalya.  this  does  not  imply  that  the  God 
Indra  committed  such  a  crime,  but  Indra 
means  the  sun,  and  Ahalya  (from  ahan 
and  li)  the  night;  and  as  the  night  is 
seduced  and  ruined  by  the  sun  of  the 
morning,  therefore  is  Indra  called  the 
paramour  of  Ahalya.'  MAX  MULLER, 
History  of  Ancient  Sanskrit  Literature, 
p,  $30. 


Or  like  the  full  moon  shining  through 
The  wintry  mist,  then  lost  to  view  : 
Or  like  the  sun's  reflection,  cast 
Upon  the  flood,  too  bright  to  last : 
So  was  the  glorious  dame  till  then 
Removed  from  Gods'  and  mortals'  ken, 
Till — such  was  Gautam's  high  decree — 
Prince  Kama  c.ame  t)  set  her  free. 

Then,  with  great  joy  that  dame  to  meet, 
The  sons  of  Raghu  clasped  her  feet; 
And  she.  remembering  Gautanvs  oath, 
With  gentle  grace  received  them  both  ; 
Then  water  for  their  feet  she  gave, 
Guest-gift,  and  all  that  strangers  crave. 

The  prince,  of  courteous  rule  aware, 
Received,  as  meet,  the  lady's  care. 
Then  flowers  came  down  in  copious  rain, 
And  moving  to  the  heavenly  strain 
Of  music  in  the  skies  that  rang, 
The  nymphs  and  minstrels  danced  and 

sang  : 

And  all  the  Gods  with  one  glad  voice 
Praised  the  great  dame, and  cried,  'Rejoice! 
Through  fervid  rites  no  more  defiled, 
But  with  thy  husband  reconciled.' 
Gautam,  the  holy  hermit  knew — 
For  naught  escaped  his  godlike  view — 
Tiiat  Rama  lodged  beneath  that  shade, 
And  hasting  there  his  homage  paid. 
He  took  Ahalya  to  his  side, 
From  sin  and  folly  purified, 
And  let  his  new-found  consort  bear 
In  his  austerities  a  share. 

Then  Rama,  pride  of  Kaghu's  race, 
Welcomed  by  Gautam,  face  to  face, 
Whj  every  highest  honour  showed, 
To  Mithilti  pursued  his  road. 


CANTO  L. 

JANAK. 

The  sons  of  Raghu  journeyed  forth, 
Bending  their  steps  'twixt  east  and  north. 
Soon,  guided  by  the  sage,  they  found, 
Enclosed,  a  sacrificial  ground. 
Then  to  the  best  of  saints,  his  guide, 
In  admiration  Rama  cried  : 
'  The  high-souled  king  no  toil  has  spared, 
But  nobly  for  his  rite  prepared. 
How  many  thousand  Brahmans  here, 
From  every  region,  far  and  near, 
Well  read  in  holy  lore,  appear  ! 
How  many  tents,  that  sages  screen, 
With  wains  in  hundreds,  here  are  seen  ! 
Great  Brahman,  let  us  find  a  place 
Where  we  may  stay  and  rest  a  space.' 
The  hermit  did  as  Rama  prayed, 
And  iu  a  spot  his  lodging  made, 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


Far  from  the  crowd,  sequestered,  clear, 
With  copious  water  flowing  near. 

Then  Janak,  best  of  kings,  aware 
Of  Visvamitra  lodging  there, 
With  Satananda  for  his  guide — 
The  priest  on  whom  he  most  relied. 
His  chaplain  void  of  guile  and  stain — 
And  others  of  his  priestly  train, 
Bearing  the  gift  that  greets  the  guest, 
To  meet  him  with  all  honour  pressed. 
The  saint  received  with  gladsome  mind 
Each  honour  and  observance  kind  : 
Tli en  of  his  health  he  asked  the  king, 
And  how  his  rites  were  prospering, 
Janak,  with  chaplain  and  with  priest, 
Addressed  the  hermits,  chief  and  least, 
Accosting  all,  in  due  degree, 
With  proper  words  of  courtesy. 
Then,  with  his  palms  together  laid, 
The  king  his  supplication  made : 
'Deign,  reverend  lord,  to  sit  thee  down 
With  these  good  saints  of  high  renown.' 
Then  sate  the  chief  of  hermits  there, 
Obedient  to  the  monarch's  prayer. 
Chaplain  and  priest,  and  king  and  peer, 
Sate  in  their  order,  far  or  near. 
Then  thus  the  king  began  to  say  : 
'  The  Gods  have  blest  my  rite  to-day, 
And  with  the  sight  of  thee  repaid 
The  preparations  I  have  made. 
Grateful  am  I,  so  highly  blest, 
That  thou,  of  saints  the  holiest, 
Hast  come,  O  Brahman,  here  with  all 
These  hermits  to  the  festival. 
Twelve  days,  O  Brahman  Sage,  remain — 
For  so  the  learned  priests  ordain — 
And  then,  O  heir  of  Kusik's  name, 
The  Gods  will  come  their  dues  to  claim.' 

With  looks  that  testified  delight 
Thus  spake  he  to  the  anchorite, 
Then  with  his  suppliant  hands  upraised, 
He  asked,  as  earnestly  he  gazed  : 
*  These  princely  youths,  O  Sage,  who  vie 
In  might  with  children  of  the  sky, 
Heroic,  born  for  happy  fate, 
With  elephants'  or  lions'  gait, 
Bold  as  the  tiger  and  the  bull, 
With  lotus  eyes  so  large  and  full, 
Armed  with  the  quiver,  sword  and  bow, 
Whose  figures  like  the  Asvins  show, 
Like  children  of  the  heavenly  Powers, 
Come  freely  to  these  shades  of  ours,— 
How  have  they  reached  on  foot  this  place  ? 
What  do  they  seek,  and  what  their  race  1 
As  sun  and  moon  adorn  the  sky, 
This  spot  the  heroes  glorify  : 
Alike  in  stature,  port,  and  mien, 
The  same  fair  form  in  each  is  seen.'1 

1  *The  preceding    sixteen    lines  have 
occurred  before  in  Canto  XLVIII.    This 


Thus  spoke  the  monarch,  lofty-souled  : 
The  saint,  of  heart  unfathomed,  told 
How,  sons  of  Dasaratha,  they 
Accompanied  his  homeward  way, 
How  in  the  hermitage  they  dwelt,  ' 
And  slaughter  to  the  demons  dealt : 
Their  journey  till  the  spot  they  neared 
Whence  fair  Visala's  towers  appeared  : 
Ahalya  seen  and  freed  from  taint ; 
Their  meeting  with  her  lord  the  saint ; 
And  how  they  thither  came,  to  know 
The  virtue  of  the  famous  bow. 

Thus  Visvamitra  spoke  the^whole 
To  royal  Janak.  great  of  soul. 
And  when  this  wondrous  tale  was  o'er, 
The  glorious  hermit^said  no  more. 


CANTO  LI. 


VISVAMITRA. 

Wise  Visvamitra's  tale  was  done  : 

Then  sainted  Gautam's  eldest  son, 

Great  Satananda,  far-renowned, 

Whom  long  austerities  had  crowned 

With  glory.— as  the  news  he  heard 

The  down  upon  his  body  stirred, — 

Filled  full  of  wonder  at  the  sight 

Of  Rama,  felt  supreme  delight. 

When  Satananda  saw  the  pair 

Of  youthful  princes  seated  there, 

He  turned  him  to  the  holy  man 

Who  sate  at  ease,  and  thus  began  : 

4  And  didst  thou,  mighty  Sage,  in  truth1 

Show  clearly  to  this  royal  youth 

My  mother,  glorious  far  and  wide, 

Whom  penance-rites  have  sanctified  ? 

And  did  my  glorious  mother — she, 

Heiress  of  noble  destiny — 

Serve  her  great  guest  with  woodland  store, 

Whom  all  should  honour  evermore  1 

Didst  thou  the  tale  to  Rama  tell 

Of  what  in  ancient  days  befell, 

The  sin,  the  misery,  and  the  shame 

Of  guilty  God  and  faithless  dame? 

And,  O  thou  best  of  hermits,  say, 

Did  Rama's  healing  presence  stay 

Her  trial  ?  was  the  wife  restored 

Again  to  him,  my  sire  and  lord? 

Say,  Hermit,  did  that  sire  of  mine 

Receive  her  with  a  soul  benign, 

When  long  austerities  in  time 

Had  cleansed  her  from  the  taint  ofjcrimef 

Homeric  custom  of  repeating  a  passage  of 
several  lines  is  strange  to  our  poet.  This 
is  the  only  instance  1  remember.  The 
repetition  of  single  lines  is  common 
enough.'  SCHLEGEL. 


Canto  LII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


And,  son  of  Kusik,  let  me  know, 
Did  my  great-minded  father  show 
Honour  to  Rama,  and  regard, 
Before  he  journeyed  hitherward  ? J 
The  hermit  with  attentive  ear 
Marked  all  the  questions  of  the  seer  : 
To  him  for  eloquence  far-famed, 
His  eloquent  reply  he  framed  : 
'  Yea,  'twas  my  care  no  task  to  shun, 
And  all  I  had  to  do  was  done  ; 
As  Renuka  and  Bhrigu's  child, 
The  saint  and  dame  were  reconciled.* 

When  the  great  sage  had  thus  replied, 
To  Rama  $atananda  cried  : 
'A  welcome  visit,  Prince,  is  thine, 
Thou  scion  of  King  Raghu's  line, 
With  him  to  guide  thy  way  aright, 
This  sage  invincible  in  might, 
This  Brahman  sage,  most  glorious-bright, 
By  long  austerities  has  wrought 
A  wondrous  deed,  exceeding  thought : 
Thou  knowest  well,  O  strong  of  arm, 
This  sure  defence  from  scathe  and  harm. 
None,  Rama,  none  is  living  now 
In  all  the  earth  more  blest  than  thou, 
That  thou  hast  won  a  saint  so  tried 
In  fervid  rites  thy  life  to  guide. 
Now  listen,  Prince,  while  I  relate 
His  lofty  deeds  and  wondrous  fate. 
He  was  a  monarch  pious-souled, 
His  foemen  in  the  dust  he  rolled  ; 
Most  learned,  prompt  at  duty's  claim, 
His  people's  good  his  joy  and  aim. 

Of  old  the  Lord  of  Life  gave  birth 
To  mighty  Kusa,  king  of  earth. 
His  son  was  Kusanabha,  strong, 
Friend  of  the  right,  the  foe  of  wrong. 
Gadhi,  whose  fame  no  time  shall  dim, 
Heir  of  his  throne  was  born  to  him, 
And  Visvamitra,  Gadhi's  heir, 
Governed  the  land  with  kingly  care. 
While  years  unnumbered  rolled  away 
The  monarch  reigned  with  equal  sway. 
At  length,  assembling  many  a  band, 
He  led  his  warriors  round  the  land- 
Complete  in  tale,  a  mighty  force, 
Oars,  elephants,  and  foot,  and  horse. 
Through  cities,  groves,  and  floods  he  passed, 
O'er  lofty  hills,  through  regions  vast. 
He  reached  Vasishtha's  pure  abode, 
Where  trees,  and  flowers,  and    creepers 

glowed, 

Where  troops  of  sylvan  creatures  fed ; 
Which  saints  and  angels  visited. 
Gods,  fauns,  and  bards  of  heavenly  race, 
And  spirits,  glorified  the  place  ; 
The  deer  their  timid  ways  forgot, 
And  holy  Brahmans  thronged  the  spot. 
Bright  in  their  souls,  like  fire,  were  these, 
Made  pure  by  long  austerities, 
Bound  by  the  rule  of  vows  serere, 


And  each  in  glory  Brahma's  peer. 
Some  fed  on  water,  some  on  air, 
Some  on  the  leaves  that  withered  there. 
Roots  and  wild  fruit  were  others'  food  ; 
All  rage  was  checked,  each  sense  subdued, 
There  Balakhilyas1  went  and  came. 
Now  breathed   the  prayer,  now  fed  the 

flame  : 

These,  and  ascetic  bands  beside, 
The  sweet  retirement  beautified. 
Such  was  Vasishtha's  blest  retreat, 
Like  Brahma's  own  celestial  seat, 
Which  gladdened  Visvamitra's  eye*, 
Peerless  for  warlike  enterprise. 


CANTO  LII. 

VA&ISHTHA'S  FEAST. 

Right  glad  was  Visvamitra  when 
He  saw  the  prince  of  saintly  men. 
Low  at  his  feet  the  hero  bent, 
And  did  obeisance,  reverent. 

The  king  was  welcomed  in,  and  shown 
A  seat  beside  the  hermit's  own, 
Who  offered  him,  when  resting  there, 
Fruit  in  due  course,  and  woodland  fare. 
And  Visvamitra,  noblest  king, 
Received  Vasishtha's  welcoming, 
Turned  to  his  host,  and  prayed  him  tell 
That  he  and  all  with  him  were  well. 
Vasishtha  to  the  king  replied 
That  all  was  well  on  every  side, 
That  fire,  and  vows,  and  pupils  throve, 
And  all  the  trees  within  the  grove. 
A.nd  then  the  son  of  Brahma,  best 
Of  all  who  pray  with  voice  suppressed, 
Questioned  with  pleasant  words  like  these 
The  mighty  king  who  sate  at  ease  : 
*And  is  it  well  with  thee?  1  pray; 
And  dost  thou  win  by  virtuous  sway 
Thy  people's  love,  discharging  all 
The  duties  on  a  king  that  fall  ? 
Are  all  thy  servants  fostered  well  ? 
Do  all  obey,  and  none  rebel  ? 
Hast  thou,  destroyer  of  the  foe, 
No  enemies  to  overthrow  ? 
Does  fortune,  conqueror  !  still  attend 
Thy  treasure,  host,  and  every  friend? 
Is  it  all  well  ?    Does  happy  fate 
On  sons  and  children's  children  wait?7 

He  spoke.    The  modest  king  replied 
That  all  was  prosperous  far  and  wide. 


1  Divine  personages  of  minute  size  pro- 
duced from  the  hair  of  Brahma,  and  pro- 
bably the  origin  of 

*  That  small  infantry 
Warred  on  by  cranes.' 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


Thus  for  awhile  the  two  conversed, 
As  each  to  each  his  tale  rehearsed, 
And  as  the  happy  moments  flew, 
Their  joy  and  friendship  stronger  grew. 
When  such  discourse  had  reached  an  end, 
Thus  spoke  the  saint  most  reverened 
To  royal  Visvjimitra,  while 
His  features  brightened  with  a  smile  : 
'()  mighty  lord  of  men,  I  fain 
Would  banquet  thee  and  all  thy  train 
In  mode  that  suits  thy  station  high  : 
And  do  not  thou  my  prayer  deny. 
Let  my  good  lord  with  favour  take 
The  offering  that  I  fain  would  make, 
And  let  me  honour,  ere  we  part, 
My  royal  guest  with  loving  heart.' 

Him  Visvamitra  thus  addressed  : 
'  Why  make,  O  Saint,  this  new  request? 
Thy  welcome  and  each  gracious  word 
Sufficient  honour  have  conferred. 
Thou  gavest  roots  and  fruit  to  eat, 
The  treasures  of  this  pure  retreat, 
And  water  for  my  mouth  and  feet ; 
And — boon  I  prize  above  the  rest — 
Thy  presence  has  mine  eyesight  blest. 
Honoured  by  thee  in  every  way, 
To  whom  all  honour  all  should  pay, 
I  now  will  go.    My  lord,  Good-bye  1 
Regard  me  with  a  friendly  eye.' 

Him  speaking  thus  Vasishtha  stayed, 
And  still  to  share  his  banquet  prayed. 
The  will  of  Gadhi's  son  he  bent, 
And  won  the  monarch  to  consent, 
Who  spoke  in  answer,  '  Let  it  be, 
Great  Hermit,  as  it  pleases  thee.' 
When,  best  of  those  who  breathe  the  prayer, 
He  heard  the  king  his  will  declare, 
He  called  the  cow  of  spotted  skin, 
All  spot  without,  all  pure  within. 
'  Come,  Dapple-skin,'  he  cried,  «  with  speed ; 
Hear  thou  my  words  and  help  at  need. 
My  heart  is  set  to  entertain 
This  monarch  and  his  mighty  train 
With  sumptuous  meal  and  worthy  fare ; 
JBe  thine  the  banquet  to  prepare. 
Each  dainty  cate,  each  goodly  dish, 
Of  six-fold  taste1  as  each  may  wish — 
All  these,  O  cow  of  heavenly  power, 
Rain  down  for  me  in  copious  shower  : 
Viands  and  drink  for  tooth  and  lip, 
To  eat,  to  suck,  t  >  quaff,  to  sip — 
Of  these  sufficient,  and  to  spare, 
O  plenty-giving  cow,  prepare.' 


1  Sweet,  salt,  pungent,  bitter,  acid,  and 
astringent, 


CANTO  LI1I. 
VlSVA'MITRA'S  REQUEST. 

Thus  charged,  O  slayer  of  thy  foes, 
The  cow  from  whom  all  plenty  flows, 
Obedient  to  her  saintly  lord, 
Viands  to  suit  eacli  taste,  outpoured. 
Honey  she  gave,  and  roasted  grain, 
Mead  sweet  with  flowers,  and  sugar-cane. 
Each  beverage  of  flavour  rare, 
An  food  of  every  sort,  were  there  : 
Hills  of  hot  rice,  and  sweetened  cakes, 
And  curdled  milk  and  soup  in  lakes. 
Vast  beakers  foaming  to  the  brim 
With  sugared  drink  prepared  for  him, 
And  dainty  sweetmeats,  deftly  made, 
Before  the  hermit's  guests  were  laid. 
So  well  regaled,  so  nobly  fed, 
The  mighty  army  banqueted, 
And  all  the  train,  from  chief  to  least, 
Delighted  in  Vasishtha's  feast. 
Then  Visvamitra,  royal  sage, 
Surrounded  by  his  vassalage, 
Prince,  peer,  and  counsellor,  and  all 
From  highest  lord  to  lowest  thrall, 
Thus  feasted,  to  Vasishtha  cried 
With  joy,  supremely  gratified  : 
*  Rich  honour  I,  thus  entertained, 
Most  honourable  lord,  have  gained  : 
Now  hear,  before  I  journey  hence, 
My  words,  0  skilled  in  eloquence. 
Bought  for  a  hundred^thqusand  kme, 
Let  Dapple-skin,  O  Saint,  be  mine. 
A  wondrous  jewel  is  thy  cow, 
And  gems  are  for  the  monarch  s  brow.1 
To  me  her  rightful  lord  resign 
This  Dapple-skin  thou  callest  thine. 

The  great  Vasishtha,  thus  addressed, 
Arch-hermit  of  the  "holy  breast, 
To  Visvamitra  answer  made, 
The  king  whom  all  the  land  obeyed  : 
Not  for  a  hundred  thousand,— nay, 
Not  if  ten  million  thou  wouldst  pay, 
With  silver  heaps  the  price  to  swell,— 
Will  I  my  cow,  O  Monarch,  sell. 
Unmeet  for  her  is  such  a  fate. 
That  I  my  friend  should  alienate. 
As  glory  with  the  virtuous,  she 
For  ever  makes  herjjhome  withfme. 
On  her  mine  offerings  which  ascend 
To  Gods  and  spirits  all  depend  : 
My  very  life  is  due  to  her, 
My  guardian,  friend,  and  minister. 

i  '  Of    old   hoards  and  minerals  in  the 

earth,  the  king  is  entitled  toihalf  by  reason 

of  his  general  protection,  >nd  because  he 

is  the  lord  paramount  of  the  soil.'  j 

MAMJ,  Book  VIII.  39. 


Canto  LIV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


65 


The  feeding  of  the  sacred  flame,1 

The  dole  which  living  creatures  claim.2 

The  mighty  sacrifice  by  fire, 

Each  formula  the  rites  require,3 

And  various  saving  lore  beside, 

Are  by  her  aid,  in  sooth,  supplied. 

The  banquet  which  thy  host  has  shared, 

Believe  it,  was  by  her  prepared. 

In  her  mine  only  treasures  lie, 

She  cheers  mine  heart  and  charms  mine  eye. 

And  reasons  more  could  I  assign 

Why  Dapple-skin  can  ne'er  be  thine.' 

The  royal  sage,  his  suit  denied, 
With  eloquence  more  earnest  cried  : 
'Tusked  elephants,  a  goodly  train, 
Each  with  a  golden  girth  and  chain, 
Whose  goads  with  gold  well  fashioned 

shine — 

Of  these  be  twice  seven  thousand  thine. 
And  four-horse  cars  with  gold  made  bright, 
With  steeds  most  beautifully  white, 
Whose  bells  make  music  as  they  go, 
Eight  hundred,  Saint,  will  I  bestow. 
Eleven  thousand  mettled  steeds 
From  famous  lands,  of  noble  breeds — 
These  will  I  gladly  give,  O  thou 
Devoted  to  each  holy  vow. 
Ten  million  heifers,  fair  to  view, 
Whose  sides  are  marked  with  every  hue— 
These  in  exchange  will  I  assign  ; 
But  let  thy  Dapple-skin  be  mine. 
Ask  what  thouwilt,  and  piles  untold 
Of  priceless  gems  and  gleaming  gold, 
O  best  of  Brahmans,  shall  be  thine ; 
But  let  thy  Dapple-skin  be  mine.' 

The  great  Vasishtha,  thus  addressed, 
Made  answer  to  the  king's  request : 
*  Ne'er  will  I  give  my  cow  away, 
My  gem,  my  wealth,  my  life  and  stay. 
My  worship  at  the  moon's  first  show, 
And  at  the  full,  to  her  I  owe  ; 
And  sacrifices  small  and  great, 
Which  largess  due  and  gifts  await. 
From  her  alone,  their  root,  O  King, 


1  Ghi  or  clarified  butter,  *  holy  oil,'  being 
one  of  the  essentials  of  sacrifice. 

1  'A  Brahman  had  five  principal  duties 
to  discharge  every  day :  study  ana  teaching 
the  Veda,  oblations  to  the  manes  or  spirits 
of  the  departed,  sacrifice  to  the  Gods,  hos- 
pitable offerings  to  men,  and  a  gift  of 
food  to  all  creatures.  The  last  consisted 
of  rice  or  other  grain  which  the  Brahman 
was  to  offer  every  day  outside  his  house 
in  the  open  air.  MANU,  Book  III.  70.' 
GORRESIO. 

3  These  were  certain  sacred  words  of 
invocation  such  a  svdkd  vashat,  etc.,  pro- 
nounced at  the  time  of  sacrifice, 


My  rites  and  holy  service  spring. 
What  boots  it  further  words  to  say  ? 
I  will  not  give  my  cow  away 
Who  yields  me  what  I  ask  each  day.' 


CANTO  LIV. 


THE  BATTLE. 

As  Saint  Vasishtha  answered  so, 

.Nor  let  the  cow  of  plenty  go, 

The  monarch,  as  a  last  resource, 

Began  to  drag  her  off  by  force. 

While  the  king's  servants  tore  away 

Their  moaning,  miserable  prey, 

Sad,  sick  at  heart,  and  sore  distressed, 

She  pondered  thus  within  her  breast : 

4  Why  am  I  thus  forsaken  ?  why 

Betrayed  by  him  of  soul  most  high, 

Vasishtha,  ravished  by  the  hands 

Of  soldiers  of  the  monarch's  bands? 

Ah  me  !  what  evil  have  I  done 

Against  the  lofty -minded  one, 

That  he,  so  pious,  can  expose 

The  innocent  whose  love  he  knows  ? ' 

In  her  sad  breast  as  thus  she  thought, 

And  heaved  deep    sighs    with    anguish 

fraught, 

With  wondrous  speed  away  she  fled, 
And  back  to  Saint  Vasishtha  sped. 
She  hurled  by  hundreds  to  the  ground 
The  menial  crew  that  hemmed  her  round, 
And  flying  swifter  than  the  blast 
Before  the  saint  herself  she  cast. 
There  Dapple-skin  before  the  saint 
Stood  moaning  forth  her  sad  complaint, 
And  wept  and  lowed  :  such  tones  as  couie 
From  wandering  cloud  or  distant  drum, 

*  O  son  of  Brahma,'  thus  cried  she, 

*  Why  hast  thou  thus  forsaken  me, 
That  the  king's  men,  before  thy  face, 
Bear  off  thy  servant  from  her  place  ? ' 

Then  thus  the  Brahman  saint  replied 
To  her  whose  heart  with  woe  was  tried, 
And  grieving  for  his  favourite's  sake. 
As  to  a  suffering  sister  spake  : 
4 1  leave  thee  not :  dismiss  the  thought  j 
Nor,  duteous,  hast  thou  failed  in  aught 
This  king,  o'erweening  in  the  pride 
Of  power,  has  reft  thee  from  rny  side. 
Little,  I  ween,  my  strength  could  do 
'Gainst  him,  a  mighty  warrior  too. 
Strong,  as  a  soldier  born  and  bred. — 
Great,  as  a  king  whom  regions  dread. 
See  1  what  a  host  the  conqueror  leads, 
With  elephants,  and  cars,  and  steeds. 
O'er  countless  bands  his  pennons  fly  ; 
So  is  he  mightier  far  than  I.' 


THE 


Book  I. 


He  spoke.    Then  she,  in  lowly  mood, 
To  that  high  saint  her  speech  renewed: 
'  So  judge  not  they  who  wisest  are  : 
The  Brahman's  might  is  mightier  far. 
For   Brahmans   strength    from    Heaven 

derive, 

And  warriors  bow  when  Brahmans  strive, 
A  boundless  power  tis  thine  to  wield  : 
To  such  a  king  thou  shouldst  not  yield, 
Who,  very  mighty  though  he  be,— 
So  fierce  thy  strength, -must  bow  to  thee. 
Command  me,  Saint.    Thy  power  divine 
Has  brought  me  here  and  made  me  thine; 
And  I,  howe'er  the  tyrant  boast, 
Will  tame  his  pride  and  slay  his  host.1 
Then  cried  the  glorious  sage  :  *  Create 
A  mighty  force  the  foe  to  mate.' 

She  lowed,  and  quickened  into  life, 
Pahlavas,1  burning  for  the  strife, 
King  Visvamitra's  army  slew 
Before  the  very  leader's  view. 
The  monarch  in  excessive  ire, 
His  eyes  with  fury  darting  fire, 
Rained  every  missile  on  the  foe 
Till  all  the  Pahlavas  were  low. 
She,  seeing  all  her  champions  slain, 
Lying  by  thousands  on  the  plain. 
Created,  by  her  mere  desire, 
Yavans  and  $akas,  fierce  and  dire. 
And  all  the  ground  was  overspread 
With  Yavans  and  with  Sakas  dread  : 
A  host  of  warriors  bright  and  strong, 
And  numberless  in  closest  throng : 
The  threads  within  the  lotus  stem, 
So  densely  packed,  might  equal  them, 
In  gold-hued  mail  'against  war's  attacks, 
Each  bore  a  sword  and  battle-axe. 
The  royal  host,  where'er  these  came, 
Pell  as  if  burnt  with  ravening  flame. 

The  monarch,  famous  through  the  world 
Again  his  fearful  weapons  hurled, 

1  '  It  is  well  known  that  the  Persians 
were  called  Pahlavas  by  the  Indians.  The 
Sakas  are  nomad  tribes  inhabiting  Central 
Asia,  the  Scythes  of  the  Greeks,  whom  the 
Persians  also,  as  Herodotus  tells  us,  called 
Sakse  just  as  the  Indians  did.  Lib.  VII  64 
OL  yap  Hepaai  Travraq  rovq  Sicv^ae. 
KaXlovvi  Sa/cac.  The  name  Yavans 
seems  to  be  used  rather  indefinitely  for 
nations  situated  beyond  Persia  to  the  west 

After  the  time  of  Alexander  the 

Great  the  Indians  as  well  as  the  Persians 
called  the  Greeks  also  Yavans.'  SCHLEGEL. 

Lassen  thinks  that  the  Pahlavas  were 
the  same  people  as  the  Ilafcruec  of  Hero- 
dotus, and  that  this  non- Indian  people, 
dwelt  on  the  north-west  confines  of  India, 


That  made  Kambojas,1  Barbars,*  all, 
With  Yavans,  troubled,  flee  and  fall. 


CANTO  LV. 


THE  HERMITAGE  BURNT. 

So  o'er  the  field  that  host  lay  strown, 
By  Visvamitra's  darts  o'erthrown. 
Then  thus  Vasishtha  charged  the  cow: 
*  Create  with  all  thy  vigour  now.' 

Forth  sprang  Kambojas,  as  she  lowed ; 
Bright  as  the  sun  their  faces  glowed. 
Forth  from  her  udder  Barbars  poured,— 
Soldiers  who  brandished  spear  and  sword,— 
And  Yavans  with  their  shafts  and  darts, 
And  i3akas  from  her  hinder  parts. 
And  every  pore  upon  her  fell, 
And  every  hair-producing  cell, 
With  Mlechchhas3  and  Kiratas4  teemed, 
And  forth  with  them  Haritas  streamed. 
And  Visvamitra's  mighty  force, 
Car,  elephant,  and  foot,  and  horse, 
Fell  in  a  moment's  time,  subdued 
By  that  tremendous  multitude. 
The  monarch's  hundred  sons,  whose  eyes 
Beheld  the  rout  in  wild  surprise, 
Armed  with  all  weapons,  mad  with  rage, 
Rushed  fiercely  on  the  holy  sage. 
One  cry  he  raised,  one  glance  he  shot, 
And  all  fell  scorched  upon  the  spot : 
Burnt  by  the  sage  to  ashes,  they 
With  horse,  and  foot,  and  chariot,  lay. 
The  monarch  mourned,  with  shame  and 

pain, 

His  army  lost,  his  children  slain, 
Like  Ocean  when  his  roar  is  hushed, 
Or  some   great   snake  whose  fangs  are 

crushed : 


1  See  page  13,  note  6. 
a  Barbarians,      non-Sanskrit-speaking 
tribes. 

3  A  comprehensive    term    for    foreign 
or  outcast  races  of   different  faith  and 
language  from  the  Hindus. 

4  The  Kiratas  and  Haritas  are  savage 
aborigines  of  India  who  occupy  hills  and 
jungles  and  are  altogether  different  in  race 
and    character    from    the    Hindus.    Dr. 
Muir  remarks  in  his  Sanskrit  Texts,  Vol. 
I.  p.  488  (second  edition)  that  it  does  not 
appear  that  it  is  the  object  of  this  legend 
to  represent  this  miraculous  creation  as 
the  origin  of  these  tribes,  and  that  nothing 
more  may  have  been  intended  than  that 
the  cow  called  into  existence  large  armies, 
of  the  same  stock  with  particular  tribe* 
previously  existing, 


Canto  LVI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


67 


Or  as  in  swift  eclipse  the  Sun 

Dark  witli  the  doom  he  cannot  shun  : 

Or  a  poor  bird  with  mangled  wing — 

So,  reft  of  sons  and  host,  the  king. 

No  longer,  hy  ambition  fired. 

The  pride  of  war  his  breast  inspired. 

He  gave  his  empire  to  his  son— 

Of  all  he  had,  the  only  one  : 

And  bade  him  rule  as  kings  are  taught 

Then  straight  a  hermit-grove  he  sought. 

Far  to  Himalaya's  side  he  fled, 

Which  bards  and  Nagas  visited, 

And,  Mahadeva's1  grace  to  earn, 

He  gave  his  life  to  penance  stern. 

A  lengthened  season  thus  passed  by, 

When  Diva's  self,  the  Lord  most  High, 

Whose  banner  shows  the  pictured  bull,2 

Appeared,  the  God  most  bountiful : 

'Why  fervent  thus  in  toil  and  pain  ? 
What  brings  thee  here/  what  boon  to  gain? 
Thy  heart's  desire,  O  Monarch,  speak  : 
I  grant  the  boons  which  mortals  seek.' 
The  king,  his  adoration  paid, 
To  Mahadeva  answer  made: 
'  If  thou  hast  deemed  me  fit  to  win 
Thy  favour.  O  thou  void  of  sin, 
On  me,  0  mighty  God,  bestow 
The  wondrous  science  of  the  bow, 
All  mine,  complete  in  every  part, 
With  secret  spell  and  mystic  art. 
To  me  be  all  the  arms  revealed 
That  Gods,  and  saints,  and  Titans  wield, 
And  every  dart  that  arms  the  hands 
Of  spirits,  fiends  and  minstrel  bands. 
Be  mine,  O  Lord  supreme  in  place, 
This  token  of  thy  boundless  grace.' 

The  Lord  of  Gods  then  gave  consent, 
And  to  his  heavenly  mansion  went. 
Triumphant  in  the  arms  he  held, 
The  monarch's  breast  with  glory  swelled. 
So  swells  the  ocean,  when  upon 
His  breast  the  full  moon's  beams  have 

shone. 

Already  in  his  niind  he  viewed 
Vasishtha  at  his  feet  subdued. 
He  sought  that  hermit's  grove,*and  there 
Launched  his  dire  weapons  through  the  air, 
Till  scorched  by  might  that  none  could  stay 
The  hermitage  in  ashes  lay. 
Where'er  the  inmates  saw,  aghast, 
The  dart  that  Visvamitra  cast. 
To  every  side  they  turned  and  fled 
In  hundreds  forth  disquieted. 
Vasishtha's  pupils  caught  the  fear, 
And-  every  bird  and  every  deer, 
And  fled  in  wild  confusion  forth 


1  The  Great  God,  $iva. 

2  Nandi,  the  snow-white  bull,  the  atten 
cUnt  and  favourite  vehicle  of  £iva. 


Eastward  and  westward,  south  and  north, 

And  so  Vasishtha's  holy  shade 

A  solitary  wild  was  made. 

Silent  awhile,  for  not  a  sound 
disturbed  the  hush  that  was  around. 
Vasishtha  then,  with  eager  cry, 
tailed,  'Fear  not,  friends,  nor  seek  to  fly. 
This  son  of  Gadhi  dies  to-day, 
like  hoar-frost  in  the  morning's  ray.' 
Thus  having  said,  the  glorious  sage 
Spoke  to  the  king  in  words  of  rage  : 
Because  thou  hast  destroyed  this  grove 
Which  long  in  holy  quiet  throve, 
By  folly  urged  to  senseless  crime, 
tfow  shalt  thou  die  before  thy  time.' 


CANTO  LVL 


VI&VAMITRA'S  VOW. 

But  Visvamitra,  at  the  threat 
Of  that  illustrious  anchoret, 
Cried,  as  he  launched  with  ready  hand 
A  fiery  weapon,  *  Stand,  0  Stand  ! ' 
Vasishtha,  wild  with  rage  and  hate, 
Raising,  as  '  twere  the  Rod  of  Fate, 
His  mighty  Brahman  wand  on  high, 
To  Visvamitra  made  reply  : 
*  Nay,  stand.  0  Warrior  thou,  and  show 
What  soldier  can,  '  gainst  Brahman  foe. 
0  Gadhi's  son,  thy  days  are  told  ; 
Thy  pride  is  tamed,  thy  dart  is  cold. 
How  shall  a  warrior's  puissance  dare 
With  Brahman's  awful  strength  compare? 
To-day,  base  Warrior,  shalt  thou  feel 
That  God-sent  might  is  more  than  steel.' 
He  raised  his  Brahman  staff,  nor  missed 
ri'he  fiery  dart  that  near  him  hissed  : 
And  quenched  the  fearful  weapon  fell, 
As  flame  beneath  the  billow's  swell. 

Then  Gadhi's  son  in  fury  threw 
Lord  Varun's  arm  and  Rudra's  too  : 
Tndra's  tierce  bolt  that  all  destroys  ; 
That  which  the  Lord  of  Herds  employs  : 
The  Human,  that  which  minstrels  keep, 
The  deadly  Lure,  the  endless  Sleep  : 
The  Yawner,  and  the  dart  which  charms  ; 
Lament  and  Torture,  fearful  arms  : 
The  Terrible,  the  dart  which  dries, 
The  Thunderbolt  which  quenchless  flies, 
And  Fate's  dread  net,  and  Brahma's  noose, 
And  that  which  waits  for  Varun's  use : 
The  dart  he  loves  who  wields  the  bow 
Pinaka,  and  twin  bolts  that  glow 
With  fury  as  they  flash  and  fly, 
The  quenchless  Liquid  and  the  Dry  : 
The  dart  of  Vengeance,  swift  to  kill : 
The  Goblins'  durt,  the  Curlew's  Bill : 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boolt  L 


The  discus  both  of  Fate  and  "Right, 
And  Vishnu's,  of  unerring  flight : 
The  Wind-God's  dart,  the  Troubler  dread, 
The  weapon  named  the  Horse's  Head. 
From    his  fierce  hand  two  spears  were 

thrown, 

And  the  great  mace  that  smashes  bone  : 
The  dart  of  spirits  of  the  air, 
And  that  which  Fate  exults  to  bear  : 
The  Trident  dart  which  slaughters  foes, 
And  that  which  hanging  skulls  compose  :! 
These  fearful  darts  in  fiery  rain 
He  hurled  upon  the  sain$  amain, 
An  awful  miracle  to  view. 
But  as  the  ceaseless  tempest  flew, 
The  sage  with  wand  of  God- sent  power 
Still  swallowed  up  that  fiery  shower. 

Then  Gadhi's  son,  when  these  had  failed, 
With  Brahma's  dart  his  foe  assailed. 
The  Gods,  with  Indra  at  their  head, 
And  Nagas,  quailed  disquieted, 
And  saints  and  minstrels,  when  they  saw 
The  king  that  awful  weapon  draw  ; 
Arid  the  three  worlds  were  filled  with  dread, 
And  trembled  as  the  missile  sped. 

The  saint,  with  Brahman  wand,  em- 
powered 

By  lore  divine  that  dart  devoured. 
Nor  could  the  triple  world  withdraw 
Rapt  gazes  from  that  sight  of  awe  : 
For  as  he  swallowed  down  the  dart 
Of  Brahma,  sparks  from  every  part, 
From  finest  pore  and  hair-cell,  broke 
Enveloped  in  a  veil  of  smoke. 
The  staff  he  waved  was  all  aglow 
Like  Yarna's  ceptre,  King  below, 
Or  like  the  lurid  fire  of  Fate 
Whose  rage  the  worlds  will  desolate. 

The  hermits,  whom  that  sight  had  awed, 
Extolled  the  saint  with  hymn  and  laud  : 
'  Thy  power,  O  Sage,  is  ne'er  in  vain  : 
Now  with  thy  might  thy  might  restrain. 
Be  gracious,  Master,  and  allow 

1  'The  names  of  many  of  these  weapons 
which  are  mythical  and  partly  allegorical 
have  occurred  in  Canto  XXIX.  The  gene- 
ral signification  of  the  story  is  clear  enough. 
It  is  a  contest  for  supremacy  between  the 
regal  or  military  order  and  Brabmanical 
or  priestly  authority,  like  one  of  those 
struggles  which  our  own  Europe  saw  in 
the  middle  ages  when  without  employing 
warlike  weapons  the  priesthood  frequently 
gained  the  victory.'  SCHLEGEL. 

For  a  full  account  of  the  early  contests 
between  the  Brahmans  and  the  Kshattri- 
yas,  see  Muir's  Original  Sanskrit  Texts 
(second  edition)  Vol.  I.  Ch,  IV. 


The  worlds  to  rest  from  trouble  now  ; 
For  Visvamitra,  strong  and  dread, 
By  thee  has  been  discomfited.' 
Then,  thus  addressed,  the  saint,   well 

pleased, 

The  fury  of  his  wrath  appeased. 
The  king,  o'erpowered  and  ashamed. 
With  many  a  deep-drawn  sigh  exclaimed  : 
*  Ah  !  Warriors'  strength  is  poor  and  slight : 
A  Brahman's  power  is  truly  might. 
This  Brahman  staff  the  hermit  held 
The  fury  of  my  darts  has  quelled. 
This  truth  within  my  heart  impressed, 
With  senses  ruled  and  tranquil  breast 
My  task  austere  will  I  begin, 
And  Brahmanhood  will  strive  to  win.* 


CANTO  LVII. 


TRlgANKU. 

Then  with  his  heart  consumed  with  woe, 
Still  brooding  on  his  overthrow 
By  the  great  saint  he  had  defied. 
At  every  breath  the  monarch  sighed 
Forth  from  his  home  his  queen  he  led, 
And  to  a  land  far  southward  fled. 
There,  fruit  and  roots  his  only  food, 
He  practised  penance,  sense -subdued, 
And  in  that  solitary  spot 
Four  virtuous  sons  the  king  begot : 
Havishyand.  from  the  offering  named, 
And  Madhushyand,  for  sweetness  famed, 
Maharath,  chariot- borne  in  fight, 
And  Dridhanetra  strong  of  sight. 

A  thousand  years  had  passed  away, 
When  BrahmS,,  Sire  whom  all  obey, 
Addressed  in  pleasant  words  like  these 
Him  rich  in  long  austerities  : 
'Thou  by  the  penance,  Kusik's  son, 
A  place  'mid  royal  saints  hast  won. 
Pleased  with  thy  constant  penance,  we 
This  lofty  rank  assign  to  thee.' 

Thus  spoke  the  glorious  Lord  most  High 
Father  of  earth  and  air  and  sky, 
And  with  the  Gods  around  him  spread 
Home  to  his  changeless  sphere  he  sped. 
But  Visvamitra  scorned  the  grace, 
And  bent  in  shame  his  angry  face. 
Burning  with  rage,  o'erwhelmed  with  grief, 
Thus  in  his  heart  exclaimed  the  chief  : 
'No  fruit,  I  ween,  have  I  secured 
By  strictest  penance  long  endured, 
If  Gods  and  all  the  saints  decree 
To  make  but  royal  saint  of  me.' 
Thus  pondering,  he  with  sense  subdued, 
With  sternest  zeal  his  vows  renewed. 


Ganto  LVIIL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Then  reigned  a"monarch,  true  of  soul, 
Who  kept  each  sense  in  firm  control ; 
Of  old  Ikshvaku's  line  became, 
That  glories  in  Trisanku's1   name. 
Within  his  breast,  O  Kaghu's  child, 
Arose  a  longing,  strong  and  wild, 
Great  offerings  to  the  Gods  to  pay, 
And  win,  alive,  to  heaven  his  way. 
His  priest  Vasishtha's  aid  he  sought, 
And  told  him  of  his  secret  thought. 
But  wise  Vasishtha  showed  the  hope 
Was  far  beyond  the  monarch's  scope. 
Trisanku  then,  his  suit  denied, 
Far  to  the  southern  region  hied, 
To  beg  Vasishtha's  sons  to  aid 
The  mighty  plan  his  soul  had  made. 
There  King  Trisanku,  far  renowned, 
Vasishtha's  hundred  children  found, 
Each  on  his  fervent  vows  intent, 
For  mind  and  fame  preeminent. 
To  these  the  famous  king  applied, 
Wise  children  of  his  holy  guide. 
Saluting  each  in  order  due, 
His  eyes,  for  shame,  he  downward  threw, 
And  reverent  hands  together  pressed, 
The  glorious  company  addressed  : 
1 1  as  a  humble  suppliant  seek 
Succour  of  you  who  aid  the  weak. 
A  mighty  offering  I  would  pay, 
But  sage  Vasishtha  answered,  Nay. 
Be  yours  permission  to  accord, 
And  to  my  rites  your  help  afford. 
Sons  of  my  guide,  to  each  of  you 
With  lowly  reverence  here  I  sue  ; 
To  each,  intent  on  penance-vow, 
O  Brahmans,  low  my  head  I  bow, 
And  pray  you  each  with  ready  heart 
In  my  great  rite  to  bear  a  part, 
That  in  the  body  I  may  rise 
And  dwell  with  Gods  within  the  skies. 
Sons  of  my  guide,  none  else  I  see 
Can  give  what  he  refuses  me. 
Ikflhvaku's  children  still  depend 
Upon  their  guide  most  reverend  ; 
And  you,  as  nearest  in  degree  . 
To  him,  my  deities  shall  be  1' 


1  *  Trisanku,  king  of  Ayodhya,  was 
seventh  in  descent  from  Ikshvaku,  and 
Dasaratha  holds  the  thirty-fourth  place 
in  the  same  genealogy.  See  Canto  LXX. 
We  are  thrown  back,  therefore,  to  very 
ancient  times,  and  it  occasions  some  sur- 
prise to  find  Vasishtha  and  Visvamitra, 
actors  in  these  occurrences,  still  alive  in 
Rama's  time.' 


CANTO  LVIIL 


TKI^ANKU  CURSED. 

Trisanku's  speech  the  hundred  heard, 
And  thus  replied,  to  anger  stirred  : 
1  Why  foolish  King,  by  him  denied, 
Whose  truthful  lips  have  never  lied, 
Dost  thou  transgress  his  prudent  rule, 
And  seek,  for  aid,  another  school? 1 
Ikshvaku's  sons  have  aye  relied 
Most  surely  on  their  holy  guide: 
Then  how  dost  thou,  fond  Monarch,  dare 
Transgress  the  rule  his  lips  declare? 
'  Thy  wish  is  vain,'  the  saint  replied, 
And  bade  thee  cast  the  plan  aside. 
Then  how  can  we,  his  sons,  pretend 
In  such  a  rite  our  aid  to  lend  ? 
O  Monarch,  of  the  childish  heart, 
Home  to  thy  royal  town  depart. 
That  mighty  saint,  thy  priest  and  guide, 
At  noblest  rites  may  well  preside  : 
The  worlds  for  sacrifice  combined 
A  worthier  priest  could  never  find.' 

Such  speech  of  theirs  the  monarch  heard. 
Though  rage  distorted  every  word, 
And  to  the  hermits  made  reply  : 
'  You,  like  your  sire,  my  suit  deny, 
For  other  aid  I  turn  from  you  : 
So,  rich  in  penance,  Saints,  adieu ! ' 

Vasishtha's  children  heard,  and  guessed 
His  evil  purpose  scarce  expressed, 
And  cried,  while  rage  their  bosoms  burned, 
'  Be  to  a  vile  Chandala2  turned ! ' 


1  "  It  does  not  appear  how  Trisanku,  in 
asking  the  aid  of  Vasishtha's  sons  after 
applying  in  vain  to  their  father,  could  be 
charged  with  resorting  to  another  sdkhd 
(School)   in  the  ordinary    sense   of  that 
word  ;    as  it  is  not  conceivable  that  the 
sons  should  have  been  of  another  6akh& 
from  the  father,  whose  cause  they  espouse 
with  so  much  warmth.   The  commentator 
in  the  Bombay  edition  explains  the  word 
Sdlthdntaram  as  Yajanadina  raksbantar- 
am,  'one  who  by  sacrificing  for  thee,  etc., 
will   be    another  protector.'       Gorresio'a 
Gauda  text,  which  may  often  be  used  as  a 
commentary   on  the  older  one,  has  the 
following    paraphrase    of    the    words    in 
question,  ch.  60, 3.  Mulam  utsrijya  kasinat 
tvam  sakhasv  ichhasi  lambitum.    *  Why, 
forsaking  the  root,  dost  thou  desire  to 
hang  upon  the  branches?'"  MuiR,  Sans- 
krit Texts  Vol.  I.,  p.  401. 

2  '  A  Chandala  was  a  man  born   of   the 
illegal  and  impure  union  of  a  Sftdra  with 
a  woman  of  one  of  the  three  higher  castes. 


70 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  I. 


This  said,  with  lofty  thoughts  inspired, 
Each  to  his  own  retreat  retired. 

That  night  Trisanku  underwent 
Sad  change  in  shape  and  lineament. 
Next  morn,  an  outcast  swart  of  hue, 
His  dusky  cloth  he  round  him  drew. 
His  hair  had  fallen  from  his  head, 
And  roughness  o'er  his  skin  was  spread. 
Such  wreaths  adorned  him  as  are  found 
To  flourish  on  the  funeral  ground. 
Each  armlet  was  an  iron  ring  : 
Such  was  the  figure  of  the  king, 
That  every  counsellor  and  peer, 
And  following  townsman,  fled  in  fear. 

Alone,  unyielding  to  dismay, 
Though  burnt  by  anguish  night  and  day, 
Great  Visvamitra's  side  he  sought, 
Whose  treasures  were  by  penance  bought. 

The  hermit  \yith  his  tender  eyes 
Looked  on  Trisanku's  altered  guise, 
And  grieving  at  his  ruined  state 
Addressed  him  thus,  compassionate  : 
*  Great  King,'  the  pious  hermit  said, 
'  What  cause  thy  steps  has  hither  led, 
Ayodhya's  mighty  Sovereign,  whom 
A  curse  has  plagued  with  outcast's  doom?' 
In  vile  Chandala's  shape,  the  king 
Heard  Visvamitra's  questioning, 
And.  suppliant  palm  to  palm  applied, 
With  answering  eloquence  he  cried  : 
'  My  priest  and  all  his  sons  refused 
To  aid  the  plan  on  which  I  mused. 
Failing  to  win  the  boon  I  sought, 
To  this  condition  I  was  brought. 
I,  in  the  body,  Saint,  would  fain 
A  mansion  in  the  skies  obtain. 
I  planned  a  hundred  rites  for  this, 
But  still  was  doomed  the  fruit  to  miss. 
Pure  are  my  lips  from  falsehood's  stain, 
And  pure  they  ever  shall  remain, — 
Yea,  by  a  Warrior's  faith  I  swear, — 
Though  I  be  tried  with  grief  and  care. 
Unnumbered  rites  to  Heaven  I  paid, 
With  righteous  care  the  sceptre  swayed  ; 
And  holy  priest  and  high-souled  guide 
My  modest  conduct  gratified. 
Put,  O  thou  best  of  hermits,  they 
Oppose  my  wish  these  rites  to  pay  ; 
They  one  and  all  refuse  consent, 
Nor  aid  me  in  my  high  intent. 
Fate  is,  I  ween,  the  power  supreme, 
Man's  effort  but  an  idle  dream. 
Fate  whirls  our  plans,  our  all  away  ; 


The  Chandala  was  regarded  as  the  vilest 
and  most  abject  of  the  men  sprung  from 
wedlock  forbidden  by  the  law  (Manava- 
dharmasastra,  Lib.  X.  12.) ;  a  kind  of  so- 
cial malediction  weighed  upon  his  head 
and  rejected  him  from  human  society.' 

GOKRESIO. 


Fate  is  pur  only  hope  and  stay  ; 

Now  deign,  O  blessed  Saint,  to  aid 

Me,  even  me  by  Fate  betrayed, 

Who  come,  a  suppliant,  sore  distressed, 

One  grace,  O  Hermit,  to  request. 

No  other  hope  or  way  I  see  ; 

No  other  refuge   waits  for  me. 

Oh,  aid  me  in  my  fallen  state, 

And  human  will  shall  conquer  Fate.' 

CANTO  LIX. 


THE  SONS  OF  VA^ISHTHA, 

Then  Kusik's  son,  by  pity  warmed, 
Spoke  sweetly  to  the  king  transformed  : 
'  Hail!  glory  of  Ikshvaku's  line  : 
I  know  how  bright  thy  virtues  shine. 
Dismiss  thy  fear,  O  noblest  Chief, 
For  1  myself  will  bring  relief. 
The  holiest  saints  will  I  invite 
To  celebrate  thy  purposed  rite  : 
So  shall  thy  vow,  O  King,  succeed, 
And  from  thy  cares  shalt  thou  be  freed. 
Thou  in  the  form  which  now  thou  bast, 
Transfigured  by  the  curse  they  cast, — 
Yea,  in  the  body,  King,  shalt  flee, 
Transported,  where  thou  fain  wouldst  be. 
O  Lord  of  men.  I  ween  that  thou 
Hast  heaven  within  thy  hand  e'en  now, 
For  very  wisely  hast  thou  done, 
And  refuge  sought  with  Kusik's  son.' 

Thus  having  said,  the  sage  addressed 
His  sons,  of  men  the  holiest, 
And  bade  the  prudent  saints  whate'er 
Was  needed  for  the  rite  prepare. 
The  pupils  he  was  wont  to  teach 
He  summoned  next,  and  spoke  this  speech: 
'Go  bid  Vasishtha's  sons  appear, 
And  all  the  saints  be  gathered  here. 
And  what  they  one  and  all  reply 
When  summoned  by  this  mandate  high, 
To  me  with  faithful  care  report, 
Omit  no  word  and  none  distort.' 

The  pupils  heard,  and  prompt  obeyed, 
To  every  side  their  way  they  made. 
Then  swift  from  every  quarter  sped 
The  sages  in  the  Vedas  read. 
Back  to  that  saint  the  envoys  came, 
Whose  glory  shone  like  burning  flame, 
And  told  him  in  their  faithful  speech 
The  answer  that  they  bore  from  each  : 
'  Submissive  to  thy  word,  O  Seer, 
The  holy  men  are  gathering  here. 
By  all  was  meet  obedience  shown  : 
Mahodaya1  refused  alone. 


1  This  appellation,  occuring  nowhere 
else  in  the  poem  except  as  the  name  of 
a  city,  appears  twice  in  this  Canto  as  a 
name  of  Vasishtha. 


Canto  LX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


71 


And  now,  O  Chief  of  hermits,  hear 
What  answer,  chilling  us  with  fear, 
Vasishtha's  hundred  sons  returned, 
Thick-speaking  as  with  rage  they  burned  : 

*  How  will  the  Gods  and  saints  partake 
The  offerings  that  the  prince  would  make, 
And  he  a  vile  and  outcast  thing, 

His  ministrant  one  born  a  king? 
Can  we,  great  Brahmans,  eat  his  food, 
Arid  think  to  win  beatitude, 
By  Visvamitra  purified  ? ' 
Thus  sire  and  sons  in  scorn  replied, 
And  as  these  bitter  words  they  said, 
Wild  fury  made  their  eyeballs  red.' 
Their  answer  when  the  arch-hermit  heard, 
His  tranquil  eyes  with  rage  were  blurred; 
Great  fury  in  his  bosom  woke, 
And  thus  unto  the  youths  he  spoke  : 

*  Me.  blameless  me  they  dare  to  blame, 
And  disallow  the  righteous  claim 

My  tierce  austerities  have  earned: 
To  ashes  be  the  sinners  turned. 
Caught  in  the  noose  of  Fate  shall  they 
To  Varna's  kingdom  sink  to-day. 
Seven  hundred  times  shall  they  be  born 
To  wear  the  clothes  the  dead  have  worn. 
Dregs  of  the  dregs,  too  vile  to  iiate. 
The  flesh  of  dogs  their  maws  shall  sate. 
In  hideous  form,  in  loathsome  weed, 
A  sad  existence  each  shall  lead, 
Mahodaya  too,  the  fool  who  fain 
My  stainless  life  would  try  to  stain, 
Stained  in  the  world  with  long  disgrace 
Shall  sink  into  a  fowler's  place. 
Itejoicing  guiltless  blood  to  spill, 
No  pity  through  his  breast  shall  thrill. 
Cursed,  by  my  wrath  for  many  a  day, 
His  wretched  life  for  sin  shall  pay. 

Thus,  girt  with  hermit,  saint,  and  priest. 
Great  Visvamitra  spoke — and  ceased. 


CANTO  LX. 


TRI^ANKU'S    ASCENSION. 

So  with  ascetic  might,  in  ire, 

He  smote  the  children  and  the  sire. 

Then  Visvamitra,  far-renowned, 

Addressed  the  saints  who  gathered  round  ; 

*  See  by  my  side  Trisauku  stand, 

Ikshvaku's  son,  of  liberal  hand. 

Most  virtuous  and  gentle,  he 

Seeks  refuge  in  his  woe  with  me. 

Now,  holy  men,  with  me  unite, 

And  order  so  his  purposed  rite 

That  in  the  body  he  may  rise 

And  win  a  mansion  in  the  skies.' 

They  heard  his  specs h  with  ready  ear 
And,  every  bosom  tilled  with  f  car 


Of  Visvamitra,  wise  and  great. 

Spoke  each  to  each  in  brief  debate: 

'  The  breast  of  Kusik's  son,  we  know, 

With  furious  wrath  is  quick  to  glow. 

Whate'er  the  words  he  wills  to  say, 

We  must,  be  very  sure,  obey. 

Fierce  is  our  lord  as  fire,  and  straight 

May  curse  us  all  infuriate. 

So  let  us  in  these  rites  engage, 

As  ordered  by  the  holy  sage, 

And  with  our  best  endeavour  strive 

That  King  Ikshvaku's  son,  alive, 

In  body  to  the  skies  may  go 

By  his  great  might  who  wills  it  so.' 

Then  was  the  rite  begun  with  care  : 
All  requisites  and  means  were  there  : 
And  glorious  Visvamitra  lent 
His  willing  aid  as  president. 
And  all  the  sacred  rit  *s  were  d  /ne 
By  rule  and  use.  omit:ing  none, 
By  chaplain-priest,  the  hymns  who  knew 
In  decent  form  and  order  due. 
Some  time  in  sacrifice  had  past, 
And  Visvamitra  made,  at  last, 
The  solemn  offering  with  the  prayer 
That  all  the  Gods  might  come  and  share. 
But  the  Immortals,  one  and  all, 
Refused  to  hear  the  hermit's  call. 

Then  red  with  rage  his  eyeballs  blazed: 
The  sacred  ladle  high  Vie  raised, 
And  cried  to  King  Ikshvaku's  son  : 
'  Behold  my  power,  by  penance  won : 
Now  by  the  might  my  merits  lend, 
Ikshvaku's  child,  to  heaven  ascend. 
In  living  frame  the  skies  attain, 
Which  mortals  thus  can  scarcely  gain, 
My  vows  austere,  so  long  endured, 
Have,  as  1  ween,  some  fruit  assured. 
Upon  its  virtue,  King,  rely, 
And  in  thy  body  reach  the  sky.' 

His  speech  had  scarcely  reached  its  close, 
When,  as  he  stood,  the  sovereign  rose, 
And  mounted  swiftly  to  the  skies 
Before  the  wondering  hermits'  eyes. 

But  Indra,  when  he  saw  the  king 
His  blissful  regions  entering, 
With  all  the  army  of  the  Blest 
Thus  cried  unto  the  unbidden  guest  : 
'  With  thy  best  speed,  Tris-inku.  flee  : 
Here  is  no  home  prepared  for  thee. 
By  thy  great  master's  curse  brought  low, 
Go,  falling  headlong,  earthward  go.' 

Tims  by  the  Lord  of  Gods  addressed, 
Trisanku  fell  from  fancied  rest, 
And  screaming  in  his  swift  descent, 
•  O,  save  me,  Hermit  ? '  down  he  went. 
And  Visvamitra  heard  his  cry, 
And  marked  him  falling  from  the  sky, 
And  giving  all  his  passion  sway. 
Cried  out  in  fury,  '  Stay,  O  stay  !' 


72 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  I. 


By  penance-power  and  holy  lore, 
Like  Him  who  framed  the  worlds  of  yore, 
SSeven  other  saints  he  fixed  on  high 
To  star  with  light  the  southern  sky. 
Girt  with  his  sage.*  forth  he  went, 
And  southward  in  the  firmament 
New  wreathed  stars  prepared  to  set 
In  many  a  sparkling  coronet. 
He  threatened,  blind  with  rage  and  hate, 
Another  Iridra  to  create, 
Or,  from  his  throne  the  ruler  hurled, 
All  Indraless  to  leave  the  world. 
Yea,  borne  away  by  passion's  storm, 
The  sage  began  new  Gods  to  form. 
But  then  each  Titan,  God,  and  saint. 
Confused  with  terror,  sick  and  faint, 
To  high  souled  Visvamitra  hied, 
And  with  soft  words  to  soothe  him  tried  : 

*  Lord  of  high  destiny,  this  king, 
To  whom  his  master's  curses  cling, 
No  heavenly  home  deserves  to  gain, 
Unpurified  from  curse  and  stain.' 

The  son  of  Kusik,  underterred, 
The  pleading  of  the  Immortals  heard, 
And  thus  in  haughty  words  expressed 
The  changeless  purpose  of  his  breast: 

*  Content  ye,  Gods  :  I  soothly  sware 
Trisanku  to  the  skies  to  bear 
Clothed  in  his  body,  nor  can  I 
My  promise  cancel  or  deny. 
Embodied  let  the  king  ascend 

To  life  in  heaven  that  ne'er  shall  end. 
And  let  these  new-made  stars  of  mine 
Firm  and  secure  for  ever  shine. 
Let  these,  my  work,  remain  secure 
Long  as  the  earth  and  heaven  endure. 
This,  all  ye  Gods,  I  crave  :  do  you 
Allow  the  boon  for  which  I  sue.' 
Then  all  the  Gods  their  answer  made  : 

*  So  be  it,  Saint,  as  thou  hast  prayed. 
Beyond  the  sun's  diurnal  way 

Thy  countless  stars  in  heaven  shall  stay  : 
And  'mid  them  hung,  as  one  divine, 
Head  downward  shall  Trisanku  shine  : 
And  all  thy  stars  shall  ever  fling 
Their  rays  attendant  on  the  king.'1 


1  *  The  seven  ancient  risk-is  or  saints,  as 
has  been  said  before,  were  the  seven  stars 
of  Ursa  Major.  The  seven  other  new  saints 
•which  are  here  said  to  have  been  created 
by  Visvamitra.  should  be  seven  new  south- 
ern stars,  a  sort  of  new  Ursa.  Von  Schlegel 
thinks  that  this  mythical  fiction  of  new 
stars  created  by  Visvamitra  may  signify 
that  these  southern  stars,  unknown  to  the 
Indians  as  long  as  they  remained  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Ganges,  became 
known  to  them  at  a  later  date  when  they 
polonized  the  southern  regions  of  Indra.' 
GORRESIO. 


The  mighty  saint,  with  glory  crowned, 
With  all  the  sages  compassed  round, 
Praised  by  the  Gods,  gave  full  assent, 
And  Gods  and  sages  homeward  went. 

CANTO   LXL 

SUNAHgEPHA. 

Then  Visvamitra,  when  the  Blest 

Had  sought  their  homes  of  heavenly  rest, 

Thus,  mighty  Prince,  his  counsel  laid 

Before  the  dwellers  of  the  shade  : 

*  The  southern  land  where  now  we  are 

Offers  this  check  our  rites  to  bar:1 

To  other  regions  let  us  speed, 

And  ply  our  tasks  from  trouble  freed. 

Now  turn  we  to  the  distant  west. 

To  Pushkar's2  wood  where  hermits  rest, 

And  there  to  rites  austere  apply, 

For  not  a  grove  with  that  can  vie.' 

The  saint,  in  glory's  light  arrayed, 
In  Pushkar's  wood  his  dwelling  made, 
And  living  there  on  roots  and  fruit 
Did  penance  stern  and  resolute. 

The  king  who  filled  Ayodhya's  throne, 
By  Ambarisha  s  name  far  known, 
At  that  same  time,  it  chanced,  began 
A  sacrificial  rite  to  plan. 
But  Indra  took  by  force  away 
The  charger  that  the  king  would  slay. 
The  victim  lost,  the  Brahman  sped 
To  Ambarisha's  side,  and  said  : 
'Gone  is  the  steed,  O  King,  and  this 
Is  due  to  thee,  in  care  remiss. 


1  '  This  cannot  refer  to  the  events  just 
related  :  for  Visvamitra  was  successful  in 
the  sacrifice  performed  for  Trisanku.    And 
yet  no   other  impediment  is  mentioned. 
Still  his  restless  mind  would  not  allow 
him  to  remain  longer^  in  the  same  spot. 
So  the  character  of  Visvamitra  is  ingeni- 
ously and  skilfully  shadowed  forth  ;  as  he 
had  been  formerly  a  most  warlike  king, 
loving    battle    and    glory,    bold,    active, 
sometimes  unjust,  and  more   frequently 
magnanimous,  such  also  he  always  shows 
himself  in  his  character  of  anchorite  and 
ascetic.'    SCHLEGEL. 

2  Near  the  modern  city  of  Ajmere.  The 
place  is  sacred  still,  and  the  name  is  pre- 
served in  the  Hindi.  Lassen,  however,  says 
that  this  Pushkala  or  Pushkara,  called 
by  the  Grecian  writers  HtvKtXaiTic;,  the 
earliest  place  of  pilgrimage  mentioned  by 
name,  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  the 
modern  Pushkara  in  Ajmere, 


Canto  LXII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Such  heedless  faults  will  kings  destroy 
Who  fail  to  guard  what  they  enjoy. 
The  flaw  is  desperate  :  we  need 
The  charger,  or  a  man  to  bleed. 
Quick !  bring  a  man  if  not  the  horse, 
That  so  the  rite  may  have  its  course.' 

The  glory  of  Ikshvaku's  line 
Made  offer  of  a  thousand  kine, 
And  sought  to  buy  at  lordly  price 
A  victim  for  the  sacrifice. 
To  many  a  distant  land  he  drove, 
To  many  a  people,  town,  and  grove, 
And  holy  shades  where  hermits  rest, 
Pursuing  still  his  eager  quest. 
At  length  on  Bhrigu's  sacred  height 
The  saint  Kichika  met  his  sight 
Sitting  beneath  the  holy  boughs. 
His  children  near  him,  and  his  spouse. 

The  mighty  lord  drew  near,  assayed 
To  win  his  grace,  and  reverence  paid  ; 
And  then  the  sainted  king  addressed 
The  Brahman  saint  with  this  request  : 
«  Bought  with  a  hundred  thousand  kine, 
Give  me,  O  6age,  a  son  of  thine 
To  be  a  victim  in  the  rite, 
And  thanks  the  favour  shall  requite. 
For  I  have  roamed  all  countries  round, 
Nor  sacrificial  victim  found. 
Then,  gentle  Hermit,  deign  to  spare 
One  child  amid  the  number  there.' 

Then  to  the  monarch's  speech  replied 
The  hermit,  penance-glorified  : 
*  For  countless  kine,  tor  hills  of  gold, 
Mine  eldest  son  shall  ne'er  be  sold.' 
But,  when  she  heard  the  saint's  reply, 
The  children's  mother,  standing  nigh, 
Words  such  as  these  in  answer  said 
To  Ambarisha,  monarch  dread  : 
'  My  lord,  the  saint,  has  spoken  well : 
His  eldest  child  he  will  not  sell. 
And  know,  great  Monarch,  that  above 
The  rest  my  youngest  born  I  love. 
'Tis  ever  thus  :  the  father's  joy 
Is  centred  in  his  eldest  boy. 
The  mother  loves  her  darling  best 
Whom  last  she  rocked  upon  her  breast : 
My  youngest  I  will  ne'er  forsake.' 

As  thus  the  sire  and  mother  spake, 
Young  &unahsepba,  of  the  three 
The  midmost,  cried  unurged  and  free  : 
'  My  sire  withholds  his  eldest  son, 
My  mother  keeps  her  youngest  one: 
Then  take  me  with  thee,  King:  I  ween 
The  son  is  sold  who  comes  between.' 
The  king  with  joy  his  home  resought, 
And  took  the  prize  his  kine  had  bought. 
He  bade  the  youth  his  car  ascend, 
And  hastened  back  the  rites  to  end.1 

1  *  Ambarisha  is  the  twenty-ninth  in 


CANTO  LXII. 
AMBARrSHA'S  SACRIFICE. 

As  thus  the  king  that  youth  conveyed, 
His  weary  steeds  at  length  he  stayed 
At  height  of  noon  their  rest  to  take 
Upon  the  bank  of  Pushkar's  lake. 
There  while  rhe  king  enjoyed  repose 
The  captive  ^unahsepha  rose, 
And  hasting  to  the  water's  side 
His  uncle  Visvamitra  spied, 
With  many  a  hermit  'neath  the  trees 
Engaged  in  stern  austerities. 

Distracted  with  the  toil  and  thirst, 
With  woeful  mien,  away  he  burst, 
Swift  to  the  hermit's  breast  he  flew, 
And  weeping  thus  began  to  sue : 
*No  sire  have  I.  no  mother  dear, 
No  kith  or  kin  my  heart  to  cheer : 
As  justice  bids,  O  Hermit,  deign 
To  save  me  from  the  threatened  pain. 
O  thou  to  whom  the  wretched  flee, 
And  find  a  saviour,  Saint,  in  thee, 
Now  let  the  king  obtain  his  will, 
And  me  my  length  of  days  fulfil, 
That  rites  austere  I  too  may  share, 
May  rise  to  heaven  and  rest  me  there. 
With  tender  soul  and  gentle  brow 
Be  guardian  of  the  orphan  thou, 
And  as  a  father  pities,  so 
Preserve  me  from  my  fear  and  woe.' 

When  Visvamitra,  glorious  saint, 
Had  heard  the  boy's  heart-rending  plaint, 
He  soothed  his  grief,  his  tears  he  dried, 


descent  from  Ikshvaku,  and  is  therefore 
separated  by  an  immense  space  of  time 
from  Trisanku  in  whose  story  Visvamitra 
bad  played  so  important  a  part.  Yet 
Richika,  who  is  represented  as  having 
young  sons  while  Ambarisha  was  yet  reign- 
ing being  himself  the  son  of  Bhrigu  and 
to  be  numbered  with  the  most  ancient 
sages,  is  said  to  have  married  the  younger 
sister  of  Visvamitra.  But  I  need  not  again 
remark  that  there  is  a  perpetual  anachro- 
nism in  Indian  mythology.'  SCHLEGEL. 

'In  the  mythical  story  related  in  this 
and  the  following  Canto  we  may  discover, 
I  think,  some  indication  of  the  epoch  at 
which  the  immolation  of  lower  animals 

was  substituted  for  human  sacrifice... 

So  when  Iphigenia  was  about  to  be  sacri- 
ficed at  Aulis,  one  legend  tells  us  that  a 
hind  was  substituted  for  the  virgin.' 

GORRESIO, 

So  the  ram  caught  in  the  thicket  took 
the  place  of  Isaac,  or,  as  the  Musalmani 
say,  of  Ishmael. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  7. 


Then  called  his  sons  to  him,  and  cried : 
'The  time  is  come  for  you  to  show 
The  duty  and  the  aid  hestow 
For  which,  regarding  future  life, 
A  man  gives  children  to  his  wife. 
This  hermit's  son,  whom  here  you  see 
A  suppliant,  refuge  seeks  with  me. 
O  sons,  the  friendless  youth  befriend, 
And,  pleasing  me,  his  life  defend. 
For  holy  works  you  all  have  wrought, 
True  to  the  virtuous  life  I  taught. 
Go,  and  as  victims  doomed  to  bleed, 
Die,  and  Lord  Agni's  hunger  feed. 
So  shall  the  rite  cjmplete.d  end, 
This  orphan  gain  a  saving  friend, 
Due  offerings  to  the  Gods  be  paid, 
And  your  own  father's  voice  obeyed.' 

Then  Madhushyand  and  all  the  rest 
Answered  their  sire  with  scorn  and  jest  : 
'  What !  aid  to  others'  sons  afford, 
And  leave  thine  own  to  die.  my  lord ! 
To  us  it  seems  a  horrid  deed, 
As  'twere  on  one's  own  flesh  to  feed.' 

The  herniit  heard  his  sons'  reply, 
And  burning  rage  inflamed  his  eye. 
Then  forth  his  words  of  fury  burst: 
'Audacious  speech,  by  virtue  curbed! 
It  lifts  on  end  each  shuddering  hair— 
My  charge  to  scorn  !  my  wrath  to  dare ! 
You,  like  V&sishtha's  evil  brood, 
Shall  make  the  flesh  of  dogs  your  food 
A  thousand  years  in  many  a  birth, 
And  punished  thus  shall  dwell  on  earth.' 

Thus  on  his  sons  his  curse  he  laid, 
Then  calmed  again  that  youth  dismayed, 
And  blessed  him  with  his  saving  aid ; 
'  When  in  the  sacred  fetters  bound, 
And  with  a  purple  garland  crowned, 
At  Vishnu's  post  thou  standest  tied, 
With  lauds  be  Agni  glorified. 
And  these  two  hymns  of  holy  praise 
Forget  not,  Hermit's  son,  to  raise 
In  the  king's  rite,  and  thou  shalt  be 
Lord  of  thy  wish,  preserved,  and  free.' 

He  learnt  the  hymns  with  mind  intent, 
And  from  the  hermit's  presence  went. 
To  Ambarisha  thus  he  spake  : 
*  Let  us  our  onward  journey  take. 
Haste  to  thy  home,  O  King,  nor  stay 
The  lustral  rites  with  slow  delay.' 

The  boy's  address  the  monarch  cheered, 
And  soon  the  sacred  ground  he  neared. 
The  convocation's  high  decree 
Declared  the  youth  from  blemish  free  ; 
Clothed  in  red  raiment  he  was  tied 
A  victim  at  the  pillar's  side. 
Ti)  ere  bound,the  Fire-God's  hymn  he  raised, 
And  Indra  and  Unendra  praised. 
Thousand-eyed  Vishnu,  pleased  to  hear 
The  mystic  laud,  iueliaed  his  ear, 


And  won  by  worship,  swift  to  save, 

Long  life  to  £unahsepha  gave. 

The  king  in  bounteous  measure  gained 

The  fruit  of  sacrifice  ordained, 

By  grace  of  Him  who  rules  the  skies, 

Lord  Indra  of  the  thousand  eyes. 

And  Visvamitra  evermore. 
Pursued  his  task  on  Pushkar's  shore 
Until  a  thousand  years  had  past 
In  fierce  austerity  "and  fast. 

CANTO  LXIII. 
MENAKA. 

A  thousand  years  had  thus  flown  by 
When  all  the  Gods  within  the  sky, 
Eager  that  he  the  fruit  might  gain 
Of  fervent  rite  and  holy  pain, 
Approached  the  great  ascetic,  now 
Bathed  after  toil  and  ended  vow. 
Then  Brahma,  speaking  for  the  rest 
With  sweetest  words  the  sage  addressed  : 
'  Hail,  Saint!  This  high  and  holy  name 
Thy  rites  have  won,  thy  merits  claim.' 

Thus  spoke  the  Lord  whom  Gods  revere, 
And  sought  again  his  heavenly  sphere. 
But  Visvamitra,  more  intent/ 
His  mind  to  sterner  penance  bent. 

So  many  a  season  rolled  away, 
When  iMeuaka,  fair  nymph,  one  day 
Came  down  from  Paradise  to  lave 
Her  perfect  limbs  in  Pushkar  s  wave, 
The  glorious  son  of  Kusik  saw 
That  peerless  shape  without  a  flaw 
Flash  thro  ugh  the  flood's  translucent  shroud 
Like  lightning  gleaming  through  a  cloud. 
He  saw  her  in  that  lone  retreat, 
Most  beautiful  from  head  to  feet, 
And  by  Kandarpa'a1  might  subdued 
He  thus  addressed  her  as  he  viewed  : 
'  Welcome,  sweet  nymph  !  O  deign,!  pray, 
In  these  calm  shades  awhile  to  stay. 
To  me  some  gracious  favour  show, 
For  love  has  set  my  breast  aglow.' 

He  spoke.  The  fairest  of  the  fair 
Made  for  awhile  her  dwelling  there, 
While  day  by  day  the  wild  delight 
Stayed  vow  austere  and  fervent  rite 
There  as  tlie  winsome  charmer  wove 
Her  spells  around  him  in  the  grove, 
And  bound  him  in  a  golden  chain. 
Five  sweet  years  fled,  and  five  again. 
Then  Visvamitra  woke  to  shame, 
And,  fraught  with  anguish,  memory  came 
For  quick  he  knew,  with  anger  fired, 
That  all  the  Immortals  had  conspired 

1  The  Indian  Cupid, 


Canto  LXIV. 


RAMAYAN. 


75 


To  lap  his  careless  soul  in  ease, 

And  mar  his  long  austerities. 

*  Ten  years  have  past,  each  day  and  night 

Unheeded  in  delusive  flight. 

So  long  my  fervent  rites  were  stayed, 

While  thus  I  lay  by  love  betrayed.' 

As  thus  long  sighs  the  hermit  heaved, 

And,  touched  with  deep  repentance,grieved, 

He  saw  the  fair  one  standing  nigh 

With  suppliant  hands  and  trembling  eye. 

With  gentle  words  he  bade  her  go, 

Then  sought  the  northern  hills  of  snow. 

With  firm  resolve  he  vowed  to  beat 

The  might  of  love  beneath  his  feet. 

Still  northward  to  the  distant  side 

Of  IJausiki,1  the  hermit  hide, 

And  gave  his  life  to  penance  there 

With  rites  austere  most  hard  to  bear. 

A  thousand  years  went  by,  and  still 

He  laboured  on  the  northern  hill 

With  pains  so  terrible  and  drear 

That  all  the  Gods  were  chilled  with  fear, 

And  Gods  and  saints,  for  swift  advice, 

Met  in  the  halls  of  Paradise. 

'  Let  Kusik's  son,'  they  counselled,  *  be 

A  Mighty  saint  by  just  decree.' 

Hi?  ear  to  hear  their  counsel  lent 

The  Sire  of  worlds,  omnipotent. 

To  him  enriched  by  rites  severe 

He  spoke  in  accents  sweet  to  hear  : 

'  Hail,  Mighty  Saint !  dear  son,  all  hail ! 

Thy  fervour  wins,  thy  toils  prevail. 

Won  by  thy  vows  and  zeal  intense 

I  give  this  high  preeminence.' 

He  to  the  General  Sire  replied, 


1  '  The  same  as  she  whose  praises  Visva- 
mitra  has  already  sung  in  Canto  XXXV, 
and  whom  the  poet  brings  yet  alive  upon 
the  scene  in  Canto  LXI.  Her  proper  name 
was  Saty avati  (Truthful) ;  the  patrony- 
mic, Kausiki  was  preserved  by  the  river  into 
which  she  is  said  to  have  been  changed, 
and  is  still  recognized  in  the  corrupted 
forms  Kusa  and  Kusi.  The  river  flows  from 
the  heights  of  the  Himalaya  towards  the 
Ganges,  bounding  on  the  east  the  country 
of  Videha  (Beharj.  The  name  is  no  doubt 
half  hidden  in  the  Cosoagus  of  Pliny  and 
the  Kossoanos  of  Arrian.  But  each  author 
has  fallen  into  the  same  error  in  his  enu- 
meration of  these  rivers  (Condochatem, 
Erannoboam,  Cosoagum,  Sonum).  The 
Erannoboas,  (Hiranyavaha)  and  the  Sone 
are  not  different  streams,  but  well-known 
names  of  the  same  river.  Moreover  the 
order  is  disturbed,  in  which  on  the  right 
and  left  they  fall  into  the  Ganges.  To  be 
consistent  with  geography  it  should  be 
written  :  Erannoboam  sive  Sonum,Condo- 
<shatein  (Gandaki),  Cosoagum.'  SCHLEGEL. 


Not  sad,  nor  wholly  satisfied  : 
*  When  thou,  O  Brahma,  shalt  declare 
The  title,  great  beyond  compare, 
Of  Brahman  saint  my  worthy  meed, 
Hard  earned  by  many  a  holy  deed, 
Then  may  I  deem  in  sooth  1  hold 
Each  sense  of  body  well  controlled.' 
Then  Brahma  cried,  «  Not  yet,  not  yet ; 
Toil  on  awhile  0  Anchoret! ' 

Thus  having  said  to  heaven  he  went, 
The  saint,  upon  his  task  intent, 
Began  his  labours  to  renew, 
Which  sterner  yet  and  fiercer  grew. 
His  arms  upraised,  without  a  rest, 
With  but  one  foot  the  earth  he  pressed ; 
The  air  his  food,  the  hermit  stood 
Still  as  a  pillar  hewn  from  wood. 
Around  him  in  the  summer  days 
Five  mighty  fires  combined  to  blaze. 
In  floods  of  rain  no  veil  was  spread 
Save  clouds,  to  canopy  his  head. 
In  the  dank  dews  both  night  and  day 
Couched  in  the  stream  the  hermit  lay. 
Thus,  till  a  thousand  years  had  fled, 
He  plied  his  task  of  penance  dread. 
Then  Vishnu  and  the  Gods  with  awe 
The  labours  of  the  hermit  saw, 
And  £akra,  in  his  troubled  breast, 
Lord  of  the  skies,  his  fear  confessed, 
And  brooded  on  a  plan  to  spoil 
The  merits  of  the  hermit's  toil. 
Encompassed  by  his  Gods  of  Storm 
He  summoned  Kambha,  fair  of  form, 
And  spoke  a  speech  for  woe  and  weal, 
The  same  to  mar,  the  God  to  heal. 

CANTO  LXIV. 


RAMBHA'. 

'A  great  emprise,  O  lovely  maid, 

To  save  the  Gods,  awaits  thine  aid  : 

To  bind  the  son  of  Kusik  sure, 

And  take  his  soul  with  love's  sweet  lure.1 

Thus  orderd  by  the  Thousand-eyed 

The  suppliant  nymph  in  fear  replied: 

*  O  Lord  of  Gods,  this  mighty  sage 
Is  very  fierce  and  swift  to  rage. 

I  doubt  not,  he  so  dread  and  stern 
On  me  his  scorching  wrath  will  turn. 
Of  this,  my  lord,  am  I  afraid  : 
Have  mercy  on  a  timid  maid.' 
Her  suppliant  hands  began  to  shake, 
When  thus  again  Lord  Indra  spake  ; 

*  0  Rambha,  drive  thy  fears  away, 
And  as  I  bid  do  thou  obey. 

In  Koil's  form,  who  takes  the  heart 
When  trees  in  spring  to  blossom  start, 
I,  with  Kandarpa  for  my  friend, 
Close  to  thy  side  miae  aid  will  lend. 


76 


THE  RAMAYAX. 


Book  I. 


Do  thou  thy  beauteous  splendour  arm 
With  every  grace  and  winsome  charm, 
And  from  his  awful  rites  seduce 
This  Kusik's  son,  the  stern  recluse.' 

Lord  Indra  ceased.  The  nymph  obeyed  : 
In  all  her  loveliest  charms  arrayed, 
"With  winning  ways  and  witching  smile 
She  sought  the  hermit  to  beguile. 
The  sweet  note  of  that  tuneful  bird 
The  saint  with  ravished  bosom  heard, 
And  on  his  heart  a  rapture  passed 
As  on  the  nymph  a  look  he  cast. 
But  when  he  heard  the  bird  prolong 
His  sweet  incomparable  song, 
And  saw  the  nymph  with  winning  smile, 
The  hermit's  heart  perceivd  the  wile. 
And  straight  he  knew  the  Thousand-eyed 
A  plot  against  his  peace  had  tried. 
Then  Kusik's  son  indignant  laid 
His  curse  upon  the  heavenly  maid  : 
'  Because  thou  wouldst  my  soul  engage 
Who  right  to  conquer  love  and  rage, 
Stand,  till  ten  thousand  years  have  flown, 
Ill-fated  maid,  transformed  to  stone. 
A  Brahman  then,  in  glory  strong, 
Mighty  through  penance  stern  arid  long, 
Shall  free  thee  from  thine  altered  shape  : 
Thou  from  my  curse  shalt  then  escape.' 
But  when  the  saint  had  cursed  her  so, 
His  breast  was  burnt  with  fires  of  woe, 
Grieved  that  1  ng  effort  to  restrain. 
His  mighty  wrath  was  all  in  vain. 
Cursed  by  the  angry  sage's  power, 
She  stood  in  stone  that  selfsame  hour. 
Kandarpa  heard  the  words  he  said, 
And  quickly  from  his  presence  fled. 
His  fall  beneath  his  passion's  sway 
Had  reft  the  hermit's  meed  away. 
Unconquered  yet  his  secret  foes, 
The  humbled  saint  refused  repose  : 
'  No  more  shall  rage  my  bosom  till, 
Sealed  be  my  lips,  my  tongue  be  still. 
My  very  breath  henceforth  I  hold 
"Until  a  thousand  years  are  told  : 
Victorious  o'er  each  erring  sense, 
I'll  dry  my  frame  with  abstinence, 
Until  by  penance  duly  done 
A  Brahman's  rank  be  bought  and  won. 
For  countless  years,  as  still  as  death, 
I  taste  no  food,  I  draw  no  breath, 
And  as  I  toil  my  frame  shall  stand 
Unharmed  by  time's  destroying  hand.' 

CANTO  LXV. 

'S  TRIUMPH. 

Then  from  Himalaya's  heights  of  snow, 
The  glorious  saint  prepared  to  go, 
And  dwelling  in  the  distant  east 


His  penance  and  his  toil  increased. 
A  thousand  years  his  lips  he  held 
Closed  by  a  vow  unparalleled, 
And  other  marvels  passing  thought, 
Unrivalled  in  the  world,  he  wrought. 
In  all  the  thousand  years  his  frame 
Dry  as  a  log  of  wood  became. 
By  many  a  cross  and  check  beset, 
Rage  had  not  stormed  his  bosom  yet. 
With  iron  will  that  naught  could  bend 
He  plied  his  labour  till  the  end. 
So  when  the  weary  years  were  o'er, 
Freed  from  his  vow  so  stern  and  sore, 
The  hermit,  all  his  penance  sped, 
Sate  down  to  eat  his  meal  of  bread. 
Then  Indra,  clad  in  Brahman  guise', 
Asked  him  for  food  with  hungry  eyes. 
The  mighty  saint,  with  steadfast  soul, 
To  the  false  Brahman  gave  the  whole, 
And  when  no  scrap  for  him  remained, 
Fa.- ting  and  faint,  from  speech  refrained. 
His  silent  vow  he  would  not  break: 
No  breath  he  heaved,  no  word  he  spake. 
Then  as  he  checked  his  breath,  behold  !* 
Around  his  brow  thick  smoke-clouds  rolled 
And  the  three  worlds,  as  if  o'erspread 
With  ravening  flames,  were  filled  with 

dread. 

Then  God  and  saint  and  bard,  convened. 
And  Naga  lord,  and  snake,  and  fiend, 
Thus  to  the  General  Father  cried, 
Distracted,  sad,  and  terrified  : 
4  Against  the  hermit,  sore  assailed, 
Lure,    scathe,    and    ssorn    have    naught 

availed, 

Proof  against  rage  and  treacherous  art 
He  keeps  his  vow  with  constant  heart. 
Now  if  his  toils  assist  him  naught 
To  gain  the  boon  his  soul  has  sought, 
He  through  the  worlds  will  ruin  send 
That  tixt  and  moving  things  shall  end. 
The  regions  now  are  dark  with  doom, 
No  friendly  ray  relieves  the  gloom. 
Each  ocean  foams  with  maddened  tide, 
The  shrinking  hills  in  fear  subside. 
Trembles  the  earth  with  feverous  throes, 
The  wind  in  fitful  tempest  blows. 
No  cure  we  see  with  troubled  eyes : 
And  atheist  brood  on  earth  may  rise. 
The  triple  world  is  wild  with  care, 
Or  spiritless  in  dull  despair. 
Before  that  saint  the  sun  is  dim, 
His  blessed  light  eclipsed  by  him. 
Now  ere  the  saint  resolve  to  bring 
Destruction  on  each  living  thing, 
Let  us  appease,  while  yet  we  may, 
Him  bright  as  fire,  like  fire  to  slay. 
Yea,  as  the  fiery  flood  of  Fate 
Lays  all  creation  desolate, 
He  o'er  the  conquered  Gods  may  reign  : 
O,  grant  him  what  he  longs  to  gain.' 


Canto  LXVI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


77 


Then  all  the  Blest,  by  Brahma  led, 
Approached  the  saint  and  sweetly  said  : 
'Hail,  Brahman  Saint!  for  such  thy  place  : 
Thy  vows  austere  have  won  our  grace. 
A  Brahman's  rank  thy  penance  stern 
And  ceaseless  labour  richly  earn. 
I  with  the  Gods  of  Storm  decree 
Long  life,  0  Brahman  Saint,  to  thee. 
May  peace  and  joy  thy  soul  possess  : 
Go  where  thou  wilt  in  happiness.' 

Thus  by  the  General  Sire  addressed, 
Joy  and  high  triumph  filled  his  breast. 
His  head  in  adoration  bowed, 
Thus  spoke  he  to  the  Immortal  crowd  : 
'If  I,  ye  Gods,  have  gained  at  last 
Both  length  of  days  and  Brahman  caste, 
Grant  that  the  high  mysterious  name, 
And  holy  Vedas,  own  my  claim, 
And  that  the  formula  to  bless 
The  sacrifice,  its  lord  confess. 
And  let  Vasishtha,  who  excels 
In  Warriors'  art  and  mystic  spells, 
In  love  of  God  without  a  peer. 
Confirm  the  boon  you  promise  hern.' 

With  Brahma's  son  Vasishtha,  best 
Of  those  who  pray  with  voice  repressed, 
The  Gods  by  earnest  prayer  prevailed, 
And  thus  his  new-made  friend  he  hailed  : 
'Thy  title  now  is  sure  and  good 
To  rights  of  saintly  Brahmanhood.' 
Thus  spake  the  sage.    The  Gods,  content, 
Back  to  their  heavenly  mansions  went. 
And  Visvamitra,  pious-souled, 
Among  the  Brahman  saints  enrolled, 
On  reverend  Vasishtha  pressed 
The  honours  due  to  holy  guest. 
Successful  in  his  high  pursuit, 
The  sage,  in  penance  resolute, 
Walked  in  his  pilgrim  wanderings  o'er 
The  whole  broad  land  from  shore  to  shore. 
'Twas  thus  the  saint,  O  Raghu's  son, 
His  rank  among  the  Brahrnans  won. 
Best  of  all  hermits,  Prince,  is  he  ; 
In  him  incarnate  Penance  see. 
Friend  of  the  right,  who  shrinks  from  ill, 
Heroic  powers  attend  him  still.' 

The  Brahman,  versed  in  ancient  lore, 
Thus  closed  his  tale,  and  said  no  more. 
To  ^atananda  Kusik's  son 
Cried  in  delight,  Well  done!  well  done  ! 
Then  Janak,  at  the  tale  amazed, 
Spoke  thus  with  suppliant  hands  upraised: 
'High  fate  is  mine,  O  Sage,  I  deem, 
And  thanks  I  owe  for  bliss  supreme, 
That  thou  and  Raghu's  children  too 
Have  come  my  sacrifice  to  view. 
To  look  on  thee  with  blessed  eyes 
Exalts  my  soul  and  purifies. 
Yea,  thus  to  see  thee  face  to  face 
Enriches  me  with  store  of  grace. 


Thy  holy  labours  wrought  of  old, 
And  mighty  penance,  fully  told, 
Rama  and  I  with  great  delight 
Have  heard,  O  glorious  Anchorite. 
Unrivalled  thine  ascetic  deeds  : 
Thy  might,  O  Saint,  all  might  exceeds. 
No  thought  may  scan,  no  limit  bound 
The  virtues  that  in  thee  are  found. 
The  story  of  thy  wondrous  fate 
My  thirsty  ears  can  never  sate. 
The  hour  of  evening  rites  is  near: 
The  sun  declines  in  swift  career. 
At  early  dawn,  O  Hermit,  deign 
To  let  me  see  thy  face  again. 
Best  of  ascetics,  part  in  bliss  : 
Do  ihou  thy  servant  now  dismiss.' 

The  saint  approved,  and  <rlad  and  kind 
Dismissed  the  king  with  joyful  mind. 
Around  the  sage  King  Janak  went 
With  priests  and  kinsmen  reverent. 
Then  Visvamitra,  honoured  so, 
By  those  high-minded,  rose  to  go, 
And  with  the  princes  took  his  way 
To  seek  the  lodging  where  they  lay, 


CANTO  LXVI. 


JANAK'S  SPEECH. 

With  cloudless  lustre  rose  the  sun  ; 
The  king,  his  morning  worship  done, 
Ordered  his  heralds  to  invite 
The  princes  and  the  anchorite. 
With  honour,  as  the  laws  decree, 
The  monarch  entertained  the  three. 
Then  to  the  youths  and  saintly  man 
Videha's  lord  this  speech  began  : 
'  O  blameless  Saint,  most  welcome  thou ! 
If  I  may  please  thee  tell  me  how. 
Speak,  mighty  lord,  whom  all  revere, 
'Tis  thine  to  order,  mine  to  hear,' 

Thus  he  on  mighty  thoughts  intent ; 
Tnen  thus  the  sage  most  eloquent : 
*  King  Daiaratha  8  sons,  this  pair 
Of  warriors  famous  everywhere, 
Are  come  that  best  of  bows  to  see 
That  lies  a  treasure  stored  by  thee. 
This,  mighty  Janak,  deign  to  show, 
That  they  may  look  upon  the  bow. 
And  then,  contented,  homeward  go,1 
Then  royal  Janak  spoke  in  turn  : 
'  O  best  of  Saints,  the  story  learn 
Why  this  famed  bow,  a  noble  prize, 
A  treasure  in  my  palace  lies. 
A  monarch,  Devarat  by  name, 
Who  sixth  from  ancient  .\  irni  came, 
Held  it  as  ruler  of  the  land, 
A  pledge  in  his  successive  hand. 
This  bow  the  mighty  Kudra  bore 


78 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


Boole  L 


At  Daksha's1  sacrifice  of  yore, 
When  carnage  of  the  Immortals  stained 
The  rite  that  Daksha  had  ordained.; 
Then  as  the  Gods'sore  wounded  fled, 
Victorious  Kudra,  mocking,  said  : 
'Because,  O  God?,  ye  gave  me  naught 
When  I  rny  rightful  portion  sought, 
Your  dearest  parts  I  will  not  spare, 
But  with  my  bow  your  frames  will  tear.' 

The  Sons  of  Heaven,  in  wild  alarm, 
Soft  flatteries  tried  his  rage  to  charm. 
Then  Bhava,  Lord  whom  Gods  adore, 
Grew  kind  and  friendly  as  before, 
And  every  torn  and  mangled  limb 
Was  safe  and  sound  n  stored  by  him. 
Thenceforth  this  bow,  the  gem  of  bows, 
That  freed  the  God  of  Gods  from  foes, 
Stored  by  our  great  forefathers  lay 
A  treasure  and  a  pride  for  aye. 
Once,  as  it  chanced,  I  ploughed  the  ground, 
When  sudden,  'neath  the  share  was  found 
An  infant  springing  from  the  earth, 
Named  Sita  from  her  secret  birth.2 
In  strength  and  grace  the  maiden  grew, 
IVly  cherished  daughter,  fair  to  view. 
I  vowed  her,  of  no  mortal  birth, 
Meet  prize  for  noblest  hero's  worth. 
In  strength  and  grace  the  maiden  grew, 
And  many  a  monarch  came  to  woo. 
To  all  the  princely  suitors  I 
Gave,  mighty  Saint,  the  same  reply  ; 
*  I  give  not  thus  my  daughter,  she 
Prize  of  heroic  worth  shall  be.3 
To  Mithila  the  suitors  pressed 
Their  power  and  might  to  manifest. 
To  all  who  came  with  hearts  aglow 
I  offered  Siva's  wondrous  bow. 


1  *  Daksha  was  one  of  the  ancient  Pro- 
genitors or  Prajapatis  created  by  Brahma. 
The  sacrifice  which  is  here  spoken  of  and 
in  which  $aukar  or  ^iva  (called  also  here 
Kudra  and  Bhava)  smote  the  Gods  because 
he  had  not  been  invited  to  share  the  sacred 
oblations  with  them,  seems  to  refer  to  the 
origin  of  the  worship  of  $iva,  to  its  in- 
crease and  to  the  struggle  it  maintained 
•with  other  older  forms  of __ worship.' 

GORRESIO. 

2  Sita  means  a  furrow, 

'  Great  Erectheus  swayed, 
That  owed   his  nurture  to  the  blue-eyed 

maid, 

But  from  the  teeming  furrow  took  his'birth, 

The  mighty  offspring  of  the  foodf  ul  earth.' 

Iliad,  Book  II. 

3  '  The  whole'story  of  Sita,  as  willjbe  seen 
in   the  course  of   the  poem  has  a  great 
analogy  with  the  ancient  myth  of  Pro- 
serpine,' GOKKESIO. 


Not  one  of  all  the  royal  band 
Cculd  raise  or  take  the  bow  in  hand. 
The  suitors'  puny  might  I  spurned, 
And  back  the  feeble  princes  turned.    . 
Kn raged  thereat,  the  warriors  met, 
With  force  combined  my  town  beset. 
Stung  to  the  heart  with  scorn  and  shame, 
With  war  and  threats  they  madly  came, 
Besieged  my  peaceful  walls,  and'long 
To  Mithila  did  grievous  wrong. 
There,  wasting  all,  a  year  they  lay, 
And  brought  my  treasures  to  decay, 
Filling  my  soul,  O  Hermit  chief, 
With  bitter  woe  and  hopeless  grief. 
At  last  by  long-wrought  penance  I 
Won  favour  with  the  Gods  on  high, 
Who  with  my  labours  well  content 
A  four- fold  host  to  aid  me  sent. 
Then  swift  the  baffled  heroes  fled 
To  all  the  winds  discomfited — 
Wrong-doers,  with  their  lords  and  host, 
And  all  their  valour's  idle  boast. 
This  heavenly  bow,  exceeding  bright, 
These  youths  shall  see,  O  Anchorite. 
Then  if  young  Rama's  hand  can  string 
The  bow  that  baffled  lord  and  king, 
To  him  I  give,  as  I  have  sworn, 
My  Sita,  not  of  woman  born.' 


CANTO  LXVII. 


THE  BREAKING  OF  THE  BOW. 

Then  spoke  again  the  great  recluse  : 

"This  mighty  bow,  O  King,  produce.' 

King  Janak,  at  the  saint's  request, 

This  order  to  his  train  addressed  : 

*  Let  the  great  bow  be  hither  borne, 

Which  flowery  wreaths  and  scents  adorn.' 

Scon  as  the  monarch's  words  were  said, 

His  servants  to  the  city  sped  : 

Five  thousand  youths  in  number,  all 

Of  manly  strength  and  stature  tall, 

The  ponderous  eight- wheeled  chest  that 

held 

The  heavenly  bow,  with  toil  propelled. 
At  length  they  brought  that  iron  chest, 
And  thus  the  godlike  king  addressed  : 
'  This  best  of  bows,  O  lord,  we  bring, 
Respected  by  each  chief  and  king, 
And  place  it  for  these  youths  to  see, 
If,  Sovereign,  such  thy  pleasure  be.' 

With  suppliant  palm  to  palm  applied 
King  Janak  to  the  strangers  cried  : 
'  This  gem  of  bows,  O  Brahman  Sage, 
Our  race  has  prized  from  age  to  age, 
Too  strong  for  those  who  yet  have  reigned, 
Though  great  in  might  each  nerve  they 

strained, 


Canto 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


79 


Titan  and  fiend  its  strength  defies, 
God,  spirit,  minstrel  of  the  skies. 
And  bard  above  and  snake  below 
Are  baffled  by  this  glorious  bo\V. 
Then  how  may  human  prowess  hcpe 
"With  such  a  bow  as  this  to  cope  / 
What  man  with  valour's  choicest  gift 
This  bow  can  draw,  or  string,  or  lift  ? 
Yet  let  the  princes,  holy  Seer, 
Behold  it  :  it  is  present  here.' 

Then  spoke  the  hermit  pious-souled: 
'  Rama,  dear  son,  the  bow  behold.' 
Then  Rama  at  his  word  unclosed 
The  chest  wherein  its  might  reposed, 
Thus  crying,  as  he  viewed  it :  '  Lo  ! 
I  lay  mine  hand  upon  the  bow  : 
May  happy  luck  my  hope'attend 
Its  heavenly  strength  to  lift  or  bend.' 

*  Good  luck  be  thine,'  the  hermit  cried  : 
'  Assay  the  task  ! '  the  king  replied. 
Then  Kaghu's  son,  as  if  in  sport, 
Before  the  thousands  of  the  court, 
The  weapon  by  the  middle'Taised 
That  all  the  crowd  in  wonder  gazed. 
With  steady  arm  the  string  he  drew 
Till  burst  the  mighty  bow  in  two. 

As  snapped  the  bow,  an  awful  clang, 
Loud  as  the  shriek  of  tempests,  rang. 
The  earth,  affrighted,  shook  amain 
As  when  a  hill  is  rent  in  twain. 
Then,  senseless  at  the  fearful  sound, 
The  people  fell  upon  the  ground  : 
None  save  the  king,  the  princely  pair, 
And  the  great  saint,  the  shock  could  bear, 

When  woke  to  sense  the  stricken  train, 
And  Janak's  soul  was  calm  again, 
With  suppliant  hands  and  reverent  head, 
These  words,  most  eloquent,  he  said: 

*  O  Saint,  Prince  Rama  stands  alone  : 
His  peerless  might  he  well  has  shown. 
A  marvel  has  the  hero  wrought 
Beyond  belief,  surpassing  thought. 
My  child,  to  royal  Rama  wed, 

New  glory  on  our  line  will  shed  : 
And  true  my  promise  will  remain 
That  hero's  worth  the  bride  should  gain, 
Dearer  to  me  than  light  and  life, 
My  Sita  shall  be  Rama's  wife. 
If  thou,  O  Brahman,  leave  concede, 
My  counsellors,  with  eager  speed, 
Borne  in  their  flying  cars,  to  fair 
Ayodhya's  town  the  news  shall  bear, 
With  courteous  message  to  entreat 
The  king  to  grace  my  royal  seat. 
This  to  the  monarch  shall  they  tell, 
The  br'de  is  his  who  won  her  well  : 
And  his  two  sons  are  resting  here 
Protected  by  the  holy  seer. 
So,  at  his  pleasure,  let  them  lead 
The  sovereign  to  my  town  with  speed.' 


The  hermit  to  his  prayer  inclined 
And  Janak,  lord  of  virtuous  mind, 
With  charges,  to  Ayodhya  sent 
His  ministers  :  and  forth  they  went. 

CANTO  LXVIII. 


THE  ENVOYS'  SPEECH. 

Three  nights  upon  the  road  they  passed 

To  rest  the  steeds  that  bore  them  fast, 

And  reached  Ayodhya's  town  at  last, 

Then  straight  at  Dasaratha's  call 

They  stood  within  the  royal  hall, 

Where,  like  a  God,  inspiring  awe, 

The  venerable  king  they  saw. 

With  suppliant  palm  to  palm  applied, 

And  all  their  terror  laid  aside,     • 

They  spoke  to  him  upon  the  throne 

With  modest  words,  in  gentle  tone  ; 

*  Janak,  Videha's  king,  O  Sire, 

Has  sent  us  hither  to  inquire 

The  health  of  thee  his  friend  most  dear, 

Of  all  thy  priests  and  every  peer.     • 

Next  Kusik's  son  consenting,  thus 

King  Janak  speaks,  dread  liege,  by  us  : 

'  I  made  a  promise  and  decree 

That  valour's  prize  my  child  should  be. 

Kings,  worthless  found  in  worth's  assay, 

With  mien  dejected  turned  away. 

Thy  sons,  by  Visvamitra  led, 

Unurged,  my  city  visited, 

And  peerless  in  their  might  have  gained 

My  daughter,  as  my  vow  ordained. 

Full  in  a  vast  assembly's  view 

Thy  hero  Rama  broke  in  two 

The  gern  of  bows,  of  monstrous  size, 

That  came  a  treasure  from  the  skies. 

Ordained  the  prize  of  hero's  might, 

Sita  my  child  is  his  by  right. 

Fain  would  I  keep  my  promise  made, 

If  thou,  O  King,  approve  and  aid. 

Come  to  my  town  thy  son  to  see  : 

Bring  holy  guide  and  priest  with  thee. 

O  lord  of  king?,  my  suit  allow, 

And  let  me  keep  my  promised  vow. 

So  joying  for  thy  children's  sake 

Their  triumph  too  shalt  thou  partake, 

With  Visvamitra's  high  consent.' 

*  Such  words  with  friendship  eloquent 

Spoke  Janak,  fair  Videha's  king, 

By  ^atananda's  counselling.' 

The  envoys  thus  the  king  addressed, 
And  mighty  joy  his  heart  possessed. 
To  Vamadeva  quick  he  cried, 
Vasishtha,  and  his  lords  beside  : 
'  Lakshman,  and  he,  my  princely  boy 
Who  fills  Kausalya's  soul  with  joy, 
By  Visvamitra  guarded  well 
Among  the  good  Videhans  dwell, 


so 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


Their  ruler  Janak,  prompt  to  own 

The  peerless  might  my  child  has  shown, 

To  him  would  knit  in  holy  ties 

His  daughter,  valour's  lovely  prize. 

If  Janak's  plan  seem  good  to  you, 

Come,  speed  we  to  his  city  too, 

Kor  let  occasion  idly  by.' 

He  ceased.    There  came  a  glad  reply 
From  priest  and  mighty  saint  and  all 
The  councillors  who  thronged  the  hall. 
Then  cried  the  king  with  joyous  heart : 
*  To-morrow  let  us  all  depart.' 

That  night  the  envoys  entertained 
With  honour  and  all  care  remained. 

CANTO  LXIX. 
DAgARATHA'S  VISIT. 

Soon  as  the  shades  of  night  had  fled, 
Thus  to  the  wise  Sumantra  said 
The  happy  king,  while  priest  and  peer, 
Each  in  his  place,  were  standing  near  : 
'Let  all  my  treasurers  to-day, 
Set  foremost  in  the  long  array, 
With  gold  and  precious  gems  supplied 
In  bounteous  store,  together  ride. 
And  send  you  out  a  mighty  force, 
Foot,  chariot,  elephant,  and  horse. 
Besides,  let  many  a  car  of  state, 
And  noblest  steeds,  my  will  await. 
Vasishtha,  Vamadeva  sage, 
And  Markandeya's  reverend  age, 
Javali,  Kasyap's  godlike  seed, 
And  wise  Katyayana,  shall  lead. 
Thy  care,  Sumantra,  let  it  be 
To  yoke  a  chariot  now  for  me, 
That  so  we  part  without  delay  : 
These  envoys  hasten  me  away.' 

So  fared  he  forth.  That  host,  with  speed, 
Quadruple,  as  the  king  decreed, 
With  priests  to  head  the  bright  array, 
Followed  the  monarch  on  his  way. 
Four  days  they  travelled  on  the  road, 
And  eve  Videha's  kingdom  showed. 
Janak  had  left  his  royal  seat 
The  venerable  king  to  greet, 
And,  nablest,  with  these  words  addressed 
That  noblest  lord,  his  happy  guest : 
'  Hail,  best  of  kings  :  a  blessed  fate 
Has  led  thee,  Monarch,  to  my  state. 
Thy  sons,  supreme  in  high  emprise, 
Will  gladden  now  their  father's  eyes. 
And  high  my  fate,  that  hither  leads 
Vasishtha,  bright  with  holy  deeds, 
Girt  with  these  sages  far-renowned, 
Like  Indra  with  the  Gods  around. 
Joy  1  joy !  for  vanquished  are  my  foes  : 
Joy !  for  my  house  in  glory  grows, 


With  Raghu's  noblest  sons  allied, 
Supreme  in  strength  and  valour's  pride. 
Tomorrow  with  its  early  light 
Will  shine  on  my  completed  rite. 
Then,  sanctioned  by  the  saints  and  thee, 
The  marriage  of  thy  Rama  see.' 

Then  Dasaratha,  best  of  those 
Whose  speech  in  graceful  order  flows, 
With  gathered  saints  on  every  side, 
Thus  to  the  lord  of  earth  replied  : 
*  A  truth  is  this  I  long  have  known, 
A  favour  is  the  giver's  own. 
What  thou  shalt  bid,  O  good  and  true, 
We,  as  our  power  permits,  will  do.' 

That  answer  of  the  truthful  lord, 
With  virtuous  worth  and  honour  stored, 
Janak,  Videha's  noble  king, 
Heard  gladly,  greatly  marvelling. 
With  bosoms  filled  with  pleasure  met 
Long-parted  saint  and  anchoret, 
And  linked,  in  friendship's  tie  they  spent 
The  peaceful  night  in  great  content. 

Rama  and  Lakshman  thither  sped, 
By  sainted  Visvamitra  led, 
And  bent  in  filial  love  to  greet 
Their  father,  and  embraced  his  feet. 
The  aged  king,  rejoiced  to  hear 
And  see  again  his  children  dear, 
Honoured  by  Janak's  thoughtful  care, 
With  great  enjoyment  rested  there. 
King  Janak,  with  attentive  heed, 
Consulted  first  his  daughters'  need, 
Ana  ordered  all  to  speed  the  rite ; 
Then  rested  also  for  the  night. 

CANTO  LXX. 
THE  MAIDENS  SOUGHT. 

Then  with  the  morn's  returning  sun, 
King  Janak,  when  his  rites  were  done, 
Skilled  all  the  charms  of  speech  to  know, 
Spoke  to  wise  Satananda  so  : 
1  My  brother,  lord  of  glorious  fame, 
My  younger,  Kusadhwaj  by  name, 
Whose  virtuous  life  has  won  renown, 
Has  settled  in  a  lovely  town, 
Srinkasya,  decked  with  grace  divine, 
Whose  glories  bright  as  Pushpak's  shine, 
While  Ikshumati  rolls  her  wave 
Her  lofty  rampart's  foot  to  lave. 
Him,  holy  priest,  I  long  to  see  : 
The  guardian  of  my  rite  is  he  : 
That  my  dear  brother  may  not  miss 
A  share  of  mine  expected  bliss.' 

Thus  in  the  presence  of  the  priest 
The  royal  Janak  spoke,  and  ceased. 
Then   came  his  henchmen,  prompt  and 
brave, 


Canto  LXX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


81 


To  whom  his  charge  the  monarch  gave. 

Soon  as  they  heard  his  will,  in  haste 

With  fleetest  steeds  away  they  raced, 

To  lead  with  them  that  lord  of  kings, 

As  Indra's  call  Lord  Vishnu  brings. 

Sankasya's  walls  they  duly  gained, 

And  audience  of  the  king  obtained. 

To  him  they  told  the  news  they  brought 

Of  marvels  past  and  Janak's  thought. 

Soon  as  the  king  the  story  knew 

From  those  good  envoys  swift  and  true, 

To  Janak's  wish  he  gave  assent, 

And  swift  to  Mithila  he  went. 

He  paid  to  Janak  reverence  due, 

And  holy  $atarianda  too, 

Then  sate  him  on  a  glorious  seat 

For  kings  or  Gods  celestial  meet. 

Soon  as  the  brothers,  noble  pair 

Peerless  in  might,  were  seated  there, 

They  gave  the  wise  Sudaman,  best 

Of  councillors,  their  high  behest : 

'Go,  noble  councillor,'  they  cried, 

'  And  hither  to  our  presence  guide 

Ikshvaku's  son,  Ayodhya's  lord, 

Invincible  by  foeman's  sword, 

With  both  his  sons,  each  holy  seer, 

And  every  minister  and  peer.' 

Sudaman  to  the  palace  flew, 

And  saw  the  mighty  king  who  threw 

Splendour  on  Raghu's  splendid  race, 

Then  bowed  his  head  with  seemly  grace  : 

'O  King,  whose  hand  Ayodhya  sways, 

My  lord,  whom  Mithila  obeys, 

Yearns  with  desire,  if  thou  agree, 

Thee  with  thy  guide  and  priest  to  see.' 

Soon  as  the  councillor  had  ceased. 

The  king,  with  saint  and  peer  and  priest, 

Sought,  speeding  through  the  palace  gate, 

The  hall  where  Janak  held  his  state. 

There,  with  his  nobles  round  him  spread, 

Thus  to  Videha's  lord  he  said  : 

'Thou  knowest,  King,  whose  aid  divine 

Protects  Ikshvaku's  myal  line. 

In  every  need,  whate'er  befall, 

The  saint  Vaaishtha  speaks  for  all. 

If  Visvamitra  so  allow, 

And  all  the  saints  around  me  now, 

The  sage  will  speak,  at  my  desire, 

As  order  and  the  truth  require.' 

Soon  as  the  king  his  lips  had  stilled, 
Up  rose  Vasishtha,  speaker  skilled, 
And  to  Videha's  lord  began 
In  flowing  words  that  holy  man  : 
'  From  viewless  Nature  Brahma  rose, 
No  change,  no  end,  no  waste  he  knows. 
A  son  had  he  Marichi  styled, 
And  Kasyap  was  Marichi's  child. 
From  him  Vivasvat  sprang  :  from  him 
Manu  whose  fame  shall  ne'er  be  dim. 
Manu,  who  life  to  mortals  gave, 
Begot  Ikshvaku  good  and  brave. 


First  of  Ayodhya's  kings  was  he, 

Pride  of  her  famous  dynasty. 

From  him  the  glorious  Kukshi  sprang, 

Whose  fame  through  all  the  regions  rang. 

Rival  of  Kukshi's  ancient  fame, 

His  heir,  the  great  Vikukshi,  came, 

His  son  was  Vana,  lord  of  might ; 

His  Anaranya,  s'trong  to  tight. 

His  son  was  Prithu,  glorious  name  ; 

From  him  the  good  Trisanku  came. 

He  left  a  son  renowned  afar, 

Known  by  the  name  of  Dhundhumar. 

His  son,  who  drove  the  mighty  car, 

Was  Yuvanasva,  feared  in  war. 

He  passed  away.     Him  followed  then 

His  son  Mandhata,  king  of  men. 

His  son  was  blest  in  high  emprise, 

Susandhi,  fortunate  and  wise. 

Two  noble  sons  had  he,  to  wit 

Dhruvasandhi  and  Prasenajit. 

Bharat  was  Dhruvasandhi's  son, 

And  giorious  fame  that  monarch  won. 

The  warrior  Asit  he  begot. 

Asit  had  warfare,  fierce  and  hot, 

With  rival  kings  in  many  a  spot, 

Haihayas,  Talajanghas  styled, 

And  £asivindus,  strong  and  wild. 

Long  time  he  strove,  but  forced  to  yield 

Fled  from  his  kingdom  and  the  field. 

With  his  two  wives  away  he  fled 

Where  high  Himalaya  lifts  his  head, 

And,  all  his  wealth  and  glory  past, 

He  paid  the  dues  of  Fate  at  last. 

The  wives  he  left  had  both  conceived — 

So  is  the  ancient  tale  believed — 

One,  of  her  rival's  hopes  afraid 

Fell  poison  in  her  viands  laid. 

It  chanced  that  Chyavan,  Bhrigu's  child, 

Had  wandered  to  that  pathless  wild, 

And  there  Himalaya's  lovely  height 

Detained  him  with  a  strange  delight. 

There  came  the  other  widowed  queen, 

With  lotus  eyes  and  beauteous  mien, 

Longing  a  noble  son  to  bear, 

And  wooed  the  saint  with  earnest  prayer. 

When  thus  Kalindi,1  fairest  dame, 

With  reverent  supplication  came, 

To  her  the  holy  sage  replied  : 

'Born  with  the  poison  from  thy  side, 

O  happy  Queen,  shall  spring  ere  long 

An  infant  fortunate  and  strong. 

Then  weep  no  more,  and  check  thy  sighs, 

Sweet  lady  of  the  lotus  eyes.' 

The  queen,  who  loved  her  perished  lord, 

For  meet  reply,  the  saint  adored, 

And,  of  her  husband  long  bereaved, 

She  bore  a  son  by  him  conceived. 

Because  her  rival  mixed  the  bane 


1  A  different  lady  from  the  Goddess  of 
the  Jumna  who  bears  the  same  name. 


THE  RAMAYAX. 


Zoolc  I. 


To  render  her  conception  vain, 
And  fruit  uriripened  to  destroy, 
Sugar1   she  called  her  darling  boy 
To  Sagar  Asamanj  was  heir  : 
Bright  Ansuman  his  consort  bare. 
An  simian's  son,  Dilipa  famed, 
Begot  a  son  Bhagirath  named. 
From  him  the  great  Kakutstha  rose  : 
From  him  came  Raghu,  feared  by  foea, 
Of  him  sprang  Purushadak  bold, 
Fierce  hero  of  gigantic  mould  : 
Kalmashapada's  name  he  bore, 
Because  his  feet  were  spotted  o'er.2 
From  him  came  Lankan,  and  from  him 
Sudarsan,  fair  in  face  and  limb. 
From  beautiful  Sudarsan  came 
Prince  Agnivarna,  bright  as  flame. 
His  son  was  Sighraga,  for  speed 
Unmatched  ;  and  Maru  was  his  seed, 
Prasusruka  was  Maru's  child  • 
His  son  was  Ambarisha  styled. 
Nahush  was  Ambarisha's  heir, 
The  mighty  lord  of  regions  fair : 
Nahush  begot  Yayati :  he, 
Nabhag  of  happy  destiny. 
Son  of  Nabhag  was  Aja  :  his, 
The  glorious  Dasaratha  is, 
Whose  noble  children  boast  to  be 
K4ma  and  Lakshman,  whom  we  see. 
Thus  dp  those  kings  of  purest  race 
Their  lineage  from  Ikshvaku  trace  : 
Their  hero  lives  the  right  maintained, 
Theirlips  with  falsehood  ne'er  were  stained, 
In  Kama's  and  in  Lakshman's  name 
Thy  daughters  as  their  wives  I  claim, 
So  shall  in  equal  bands  be  tied 
Each  peerless  youth  with  peerless  bride.' 


CANTO  LXXL 


JAKAK'S  PEDIGREE. 

Then  to  the  saint  supremely  wise 
King  Janak  spoke  in  suppliant  guise  : 
*  Deign,  Hermit,  with  attentive  ear, 
My  race's  origin  to  hear. 
When  kings  a  daughter's  hand  bestow, 
'Tis  right  their  line  and  fame  to  show. 
There  was  a  king  whose  deeds  and  worth 
Spread  wide  his  name  through  heaven  and 
earth, 

1  This  is  another  fanciful  derivation, 
Sa — with,  and  gara — poison. 

*  PurnsJiddak  means  a  cannibal.  First 
called  Kalmdshapdda  on  account  of  his 
spotted  feet  he  is  said  to  have  been  turned 
into  a  cannibal  for  killing  the  son  of 
Vaaishtua. 


Nimi,  most  virtuous  e'en  from  youth, 
The  best  of  all  who  love  the  truth. 
His  son  and  heir  was  Mithi,  and 
His  Janak,  first  who  ruled  this  land. 
He  left  a  son  Udavasu, 
Blest  with  all  virtues,  good  and  true. 
His  son  was  Nandivardhan,  dear 
For  pious  heart  and  worth  sincere, 
His  son  Suketu,  hero  brave, 
To  Devarat,  existence  gave. 
King  Devarat,  a  royal  sage, 
For  virtue,  glory  of  the  age, 
Begot  Vrihadratha  ;  and  he 
Begot,  his  worthy  heir  to  be, 
The  splendid  hero  Mahabir 
Who  long  in  glory  governed  here. 
His  son  was  Sudhriti,  a  youth 
Firm  in  his  purpose,  crave  in  sooth. 
His  son  was  Dhristaketu,  blest 
With  pious  will  and  holy  breast. 
The  fame  of  royal  saint  he  won : 
Haryasva  was  his  princely  son. 
Haryasva's  son  was  Maru,  who 
Begot  Pratindhak,  wise  and  true. 
Next  Kirtiratha  held  the  throne, 
His  son,  for  gentle  virtues  known. 
Then  followed  Devamidha,  then 
Vibudh,  Mahandhrak,  kings  of  men. 
Mahandhrak  s  son,  of  boundless  mighty 
Was  Kirtirat,  who  loved  the  right. 
He  passed  away,  a  sainted  king, 
And  Maharoma  following 
To  Swarnaroma  left  the  state. 
Then  Hrasv  aroma,  good  and  great, 
Succeeded,  and  to  him  a  pair 
Of  sons  his  royal  consort  bare, 
Elder  of  these  I  boast  to  be  : 
Brave  Kusadhwaj  is  next  to  me.1 
Me  then,  the  elder  of  the  twain, 
My  sire  anointed  here  to  reign. 
He  bade  me  tend  my  brother  well, 
Then  to  the  forest  went  to  dwell. 
He  sought  the  heavens,  and  I  sustained 
The  burden  as  by  Jaw  ordained, 
And  noble  Kusadhwaj,  the  peer 
Of  Gods,  I  ever  held  most  dear. 
Then  came  Sankasya's  mighty  lord, 
Sudhanva,  threatening  siege  and  sword. 
And  bade  me  swift  on  him  bestow 
Diva's  incomparable  bow, 


1  '  Jn  the  setting  forth  of  these  royal 
genealogies  the  Bengal  recension  varies 
but  slightly  from  the  Northern.  The  first 
six  names  of  the  genealogy  of  the  Kings 
of  Ayodhya  are  partly  theogonical  and 
partly  cosmogonical ;  the  other  names  are 
no  doubt  in  accordance  with  tradition  and 
deserve  the  same  amount  of  credence  aa 
the  ancient  traditional  genealogies  of 
other  nations,'  GOKRESIO. 


Canto  LXXIL 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


And  Sita  of  the  lotus  eyes  : 
But  I  refused  each  peerless  prize. 
Then,  host  to  host,  we  met  the  foes, 
Arid  fierce  the  din  of  battle  rose. 
Budhanva,  foremost  of  his  band, 
Fell  smitten  by  my  single  hand. 
When  thus  Sankasya's  lord  was  slain, 
I  sanctified,  as  laws  ordain, 
My  brother  in  his  stead  to  reign, 
Thus  are  we  brothers,  Saint  most  high 
The  younger  he,  the  elder  I. 
Now,  mighty  Sage,  my  spirit  joys 
To  give  these  maidens  to  the  boys. 
Let  Sita  be  to  Kama  tied, 
And  Urmila  be  Lakshman's  bride. 
First  give,  O  King,  the  gift  of  cows, 
As  dowry  of  each  royal  spouse, 
Due  offerings  to  the  spirits  pay, 
And  solemnize  the  wedding-day. 
The  moon  to-night,  O  royal  Sage, 
In  Magha's1  House  takes  harbourage  ; 
On  the  third  night  his  rays  benign 
In  second  Phalguni34  will  shine  : 
Be  that  the  day,  with  prosperous  fate, 
The  nuptial  rites  to  celebrate.1 


CANTO  LXXII. 


THE  GIFT  OF  KINE. 

When  royal  Janak's  word.^were  done, 
Joined  with  Vasishtha  Kusik's  son, 
The  mighty  sage  began  his  speech  : 
'  No  mind  may  scan,  no  thought  can  reach 
The  glories  of  Ikshvtiku's  line, 
Or,  great  Videha's  King,  of  thine: 
None  in  the  whole  wide  world  may  vie 
With  them  in  fame  and  honours  high. 
Well  matched,  I  ween,  in  holy  bands, 
These  peerless  pairs  will  join  their  hands. 
But  hear  me  as  I  speak  once  more  : 
Thy  brother,  skilled  in  duty's  lore, 
Has  at  his  home  a  royal  pair 
Of  daughters  most  divinely  fair, 
I  for  the  hands  of  these  sweet  two 
For  Bharat  and  &atrughua  sue, 
Both  princes  of  heroic  mould, 
Wise,  fair  of  form,  and  lofty-souled. 
All  Dasarabha's  sons,  I  ween, 
Own  each  young  grace  of  form  and  mien: 
Brave  as  the  Gods  are  they,  nor  yield 
To  the  great  Lords  the  worlds  who  shield. 

1  The  tenth  of  the  lunar  asterisms,  com- 
posed of  live  stars, 

2  There  are  two  lunar  asterisms  of  this 
name,  one  following  the  other  immediately, 
forming  the  eleventh   and  twelf  in  of  the 
lunar  mansions. 


By  these,  good  Prince  of  merits  high, 
Ikshvaku's  house  with  thine  ally.' 
The  suit  the  holy  sage  preferred, 
With  willing  ear  the  monarch  heard  : 
Vasishtha's  lips  the  counsel  praised  : 
Then  spake  the  king  with  hands  upraised: 
'  Now  blest  indeed  my  race  I  deem, 
Which  your  high  will,  O  Saints  supreme, 
With  Dasaratha's  house  unites 
In  bonds  of  love  and  marriage  rites. 
So  be  it  done.     My  nieces  twain 
Let  Bharat  and  Satrughna  gain, 
And  the  four  youths  the  selfsame  day 
Four  maiden  hands  in  theirs  shall  lay. 
No  day  so  lucky  may  compare, 
For  marriage — so  the  wise  declare — 
With  the  last  day  of  Phalguni 
Ruled  by  the  genial  deity.' 
Then  with  raised  hands  in  reverence  due 
To  those  arch -saints  he  spoke  anew  : 
'  I  am  your  pupil,  ever  true  : 
To  me  high  favour  have  ye  shown  ; 
Come,  sit  ye  on  my  royal  throne, 
For  Dasaratha  rules  these  towers 
E'en  as  Ayodhya  now  is  ours. 
Do  with  your  own  whatever  ye  choose  : 
Your  lordship  here  will  none  refuse.' 

He  spoke,  and  to  Videha's  king 
Thus  Dasaratha,  answering : 
'Boundless   your    virtues,    lords,    whose 

sway 

The  realms  of  Mithila  obey. 
With  honouring  care  you  entertain 
Both  holy  sage  and  royal  train. 
Now  to  my  house  my  steps  I  bend — 
May  blessings  still  on  you  at  end — 
Due  offerings  to  the  shades  to  pay.' 
Thus  spoke  the  king,  and  turned  away  : 
To  Janak  first  he  bade  adieu, 
Then  followed  fast  those  holy  two. 
The  monarch  reached  his  palace  where 
The  rites  were  paid  with  solemn  care. 
When  the  next  sun  began  to  shine 
He  rose  arid  made  his  gift  of  kine. 
A  hundred  thousand  cows  prepared 
For  each   young  prince    the    Drahmans 

shared. 

Each  had  her  horns  adorned  with  gold  ; 
And  duly  was  the  number  told, 
Four  hundred  thousand  perfect  tale: 
Each  brought  a  calf,  eacn  filled  a  pail, 
And  when  that  glorious  task  was  o'er, 
The  monarch  with  his  children  four, 
Showed  like  the  Lord  of  Life  divine 
When  the  worlds'  guardians  round  him 

shine, 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  /. 


CANTO  LXXIII. 


THE  NUPTIALS. 

On  that  same  day  that  saw  the  king 
His  gift  of  kine  distributing, 
The  lord  of  Kekaya'a  son,  by  name 
Yudhajit,  Hharat's  uncle,  came, 
Asked  of  the  monarch's  health,  and  then 
Addressed  the  reverend  king  of  men  : 
'  The  lord  of  Kekaya's  realm  by  me 
Sends  greeting,  noble  King,  to'thee  : 
Asks  if  the  friends  thy  prayers  would  bless 
Uninterrupted  health  possess. 
Right  anxious,  mighty  King,  is  he 
My  sister's  princely  boy  to  see. 
For  this  I  sought  Ayodhya  fair 
The  message  of  my  sire  to  bear. 
There  learning,  O  my  liege,  that  thou 
With  sons  and  noble  kinsmen  now 
Wast  resting  here,  I  sought  the  place 
Longing  to  see  my  nephew's  face.' 
The  king  with  kind  observance  cheered 
His  friend  by  tender  ties  endeared, 
And  every  choicest  honour  pressed 
Upon  his  honourable  guest. 

That  night  with  all  his  children  spent, 
At  morn  King  Dasaratha  went, 
Behind  Vasishtha  and  the  rest, 
To  the  fair  ground  for  rites  addressed. 
Then  when  the  lucky  hour  was  nigh 
Called  Victory,  of  omen  high, 
Came  Rama,  after  vow  and  prayer 
For  nuptial  bliss  and  fortune  fair, 
With  the  three  youths  in  bright  attire, 
And  stood  beside  his  royal  sire. 
To  Janak  then  Vasishtha  sped, 
And  to  Videha's  monarch  said  : 
'  O  King,  Ayodhya's  ruler  now 
Has  breathed  the  prayer  and  vowed  the 

vow. 

And  with  his  sons  expecting  stands 
The  giver  of  the  maidens'  hands. 
The  giver  and  the  taker  both 
Must  ratify  a  mutual  oath. 
Perform  the  part  for  which  we  wait, 
And  rites  of  marriage  celebrate.' 

Skilled  in  thelaws  which  Scriptures  teach, 
He  answered  thus  Vasishtha's  speech  : 
« O  Saint,  what  warder  bars  the  gate  ? 
Whose  bidding  can  the  king  await  ? 
In  one's  own  house  what  doubt  is  shown  ? 
This  kingdom,  Sage,  is  all  thine  own. 
E'en  now  the  maidens  may  be  found 
Within  the  sacrificial  ground  : 
Each  vow  is  vowed  and  prayed  each  prayer, 
And  they,  like  fire,  are  shining  there. 
Here  by  the  shrine  my  place  I  took 
Expecting  thee  with  eager  look. 


No  bar  the  nuptial  rites  should  stay: 
What  cause  have  we  for  more  delay  ? ' 
When  Janak's  speech  the  monarch  heard, 
To  sons  and  saints  he  gave  the  word, 
And  set  them  in  the  holy  ring, 
Then  to  Vasishtha  spoke  the  king 
Of  Mithila  :  'O  mighty  Sage, 
Mow  let  this  task  thy  care  engage, 
And  lend  thine  aid  and  counsel  wise 
The  nuptial  rites  to  solemnize.' 

The  saint  Vasishtha  gave  assent, 
And  quickly  to  the  task  he  went, 
With  Visvainitra,  nothing  loth, 
And  Satananda  aiding  both. 
Then,  as  the  rules  prescribe,  they  made 
An  altar  in  the  midst,  and  laid 
Fresh  wreaths  of  fragrant  flowers  thereon. 
The  golden  ladles  round  it  shone  ; 
And  many  a  vase,  which  branches  hid 
Fixed  in  the  perforated  lid, 
And  sprays,  and  cups,  and  censers  there 
Stood  filled  with  incense  rich  and  rare  ; 
Shell-bowls,  and  spoons,  and  salvers  dressed 
With  gifts  tbat  greet  the  honoured  guest; 
Piles  of  parched  rice  some  dishes  bore, 
Others  with  coin  prepared  ran  o'er  ; 
And  holy  grass  was  duly  spread 
In  equal  length?,  while  prayers  were  said. 
Next  chief  of  saints,  Vasishtha  came 
And  laid  the  offering  in  the  flame. 
Then  by  the  hand  King  Janak  drew 
His  Sita,  beautiful  to  view, 
And  placed  her,  bright  in  rich  attire, 
Rama  to  face,  before  the  fire, 
Thus  speaking  to  the  royal  boy 
Who  filled  Kausalya's  heart  with  joy: 
*  Here  Sita  stands,  my  daughter  fair, 
The  duties  of  thy  life  to  share. 
Take  from  her  father,  take  thy  bride  ; 
Join  hand  to  hand,  and  bliss  betide  ! 
A  fathf ul  wife,  most  blest  is  she, 
And  as  thy  shade  will  follow  thee.' 

Tims  as  he  spoke  the  monarch  threw 
O'er  her  young  limbs  the  holy  dew, 
While  Gods  and  saints  were    heard  to 

swell 

The  joyous  cry,  'Tis  well !  'Tis  well ! 
His  daughter  Sita  thus  bestowed, 
O'er  whom  the  sacred  drops  had  flowed. 
King  Janak's  heart  with  rapture  glowed. 
Then  to  Prince  Lakshman  thus  he  cried  : 
1  Take  Urmila  thine  offered  bride, 
And  clasp  her  hand  within  thine  own 
Ere  yet  the  lucky  hour  be  flown.' 
Then  to  Prince  Bharat  thus  cried  he  : 
'Come,  take  the  hand  of  Mandavi.' 
Then  to  gatrughna  :  *  In  thy  grasp 
The  hand  of  Srutakirti  clasp. 
Now,  Raghu's  sons,  may  all  of  you 
Be  gentle  to  your  wives  and  true  ; 


Canto  LXXIV. 


THE  RAM  A  TAN-. 


85 


Keep  well  the  vows  you  make  to-day, 
Nor  let  occasion  slip  away.' 
-    King  Janak's  word  the  youths  obeyed  ; 
The  maidens'  hands  in  theirs  they  laid. 
Then  with  their  brides  the  princes  went 
With  ordered  steps  and  reverent 
Bound  both  the  tire  and  Janak,  round 
The  sages  and  the  sacred  ground. 

A  flowery  flood  of  lucid  dyes 
In  rain  descended  from  the  skies, 
While  with  celestial  voices  blent 
Sweet  strains  from  many  an  instrument, 
And  the  nymphs  danced  in  joyous  throng 
Responsive  to  the  minstrel's;  song. 
Such  signs  of  exultation  they 
Saw  on  the  princes'  wedding  day. 
Still  rang  the  heavenly  music's  sound 
When  Kaghu's  sons  thrice  circled  round 
The  fire,  each  one  with  reverent  head, 
And  homeward  then  their  brides  they  led. 
They  to  the  sumptuous  palace  hied 
That  Janak's  care  had  seen  supplied. 
The  monarch  girt  witli  saint  and  peer 
Still  fondly  gazing  followed  near. 


CANTO  LXXIV. 


RA:MA  WITH  THE  AXE.  > 

Soon  as  the  night  had  reached  its  close 
The  hermit  Visvamitra  rose  ; 
To  both  the  kings  he  bade  adieu 
And  to  the  northern  hill  withdrew. 
Ayodhya's  lord  of  high  renown 
Received  farewell,  and  sought  his  town. 
Then  as  each  daughter  left  her  bower 
King  Janak  gave  a  splendid  dower, 
Rugs,  precious  silks,  a  warrior  force, 
Cars,  elephants,  and  foot,  and  horse, 
Divine  to  see  and  well  arrayed  ; 
And  many  a  skilful  tiring-maid, 
And  many  a  young  and  trusty  slave 
The  father  of  the  ladies  gave. 
Silver  and  coral,  gold  and  pearls 
He  gave  to  his  beloved  girls. 
These  precious  gifts  the  king  bestowed 
And  sped  his  guest  upon  his  road. 
The  lord  of  Mithila's  sweet  town 
Rode  to  his  court  and  lighted  down. 

1  This  is  another  Rama,  son  of  Jamad- 
agni,  called  Parasurama,  or  Rama  with 
the  axe,  from  the  weapon  which  he 
carried.  He  was  while  he  lived  the  terror 
of  the  Warrior  caste,  and  his  name  recalls 
long  and  fierce  struggles  between  the 
sacerdotal  and  military  order  in  which 
the  latter  suffered  severely  at  the  hands 
of  their  implacable  enemy. 


Ayodhya's  monarch,  glad  and  gay, 
Led  by  the  seers  pursued  his  way 
With  his  dear  sons  of  lofty  mind  : 
The  royal  army  marched  behind. 
As  on  he  fared  the  voice  he  heard 
Around  of  many  a  dismal  bird, 
And  every  beast  in  wild  affright 
Began  to  hurry  to  the  right. 
The  monarch  to  Vasishtha  cried  : 
'  What  strange  misfortune  will  betide  ? 
Why  do  the  beasts  in  terror  fly, 

,  And  birds  of  evil  omen  cry  ? 

!  What  is  it  shakes  my  heart  with  dread  ? 
Why  is  my  soul  disquieted?' 

Soon  as  he  heard,  the  mighty  saint 
Thus  answered  Dasaratha's  plaint 
In  sweetest  tone  :  '  Now,  Monarch,  mark, 
And  learn  from  me  the  meaning  dark. 
The  voices  of  the  birds  of  air 
Great  peril  to  the  host  declare  : 
The  moving  beasts  the  dread  allay, 
So  drive  thy  whelming  fear  away.' 

As  he  and  Da^aratha  spoke 
A  tempest  from  the  welkin  broke, 
That  shook  the  spacious  earth  arnain 
And  hurled  high  trees  upon  the  plain. 
The  sun  grew  dark  with  murky  cloud, 
And  o'er  the  fckies  was  cast  a  shroud, 
While  o'er  the  army,  faint  with  dread, 
A  veil  of  dust  and  ashes  spread. 
King,  princes,  saints  their  sense  retained, 
Fear-stupefied  the  rest  remained. 
At  length,  their  wits  returning,  all 
Beneath  the  gloom  and  ashy  pall 
Saw  Jamadagrii's  son  with  dread, 
His  long  hair  twisted  round  his  head, 
Who,  sprung  from  Bhrigu,  loved  to  beat 
The  proudest  kings  beneath  his  feet. 
Firm  as  Kailasa's  hill  he  showed, 
Fierce  as  the  fire  of  doom  he  glowed. 
His  axe  upon  his  shoulder  lay, 
His  bow  was  ready  for  the  fray, 
With  thirsty  arrows  wont  to  fly 
Like  Lightnings  from  the  angry  sky. 
A  long  keen  arrow  forth  he  drew, 
Invincible  like  those  which  flew 
From  Diva's  ever-conquering  bow 
And  Tripura  in  death  laid  low. 

When  his  wild  form,  that  struck  with  awe, 
Fearful  as  ravening  flame,  they  saw, 
Vasishtha  and  the  saints  whose  care 
Was  sacrifice  and  muttered  prayer, 
Drew  close  together,  each  to  each, 
And  questioned  thus  with  bated  speech : 
*  Indignant  at  his  father's  fate 
Will  he  on  warriors  vent  his  hate, 
The  slayers  of  his  father  slay, 
And  sweep  the  loathed  race  away  ? 
But  when  of  old  his  fury  raged 
Seas  of  their  blood  his  wrath  assuaged i 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


So  doubtless  now  he  lias  not  planned 
To  slay  all  warriors  in  the  land.' 

Then  with  a  gift  the  saints  drew  near 
To  Bhrigu's  son  whose  look  was  fear, 
And  Rama  !  llama  !  soft  they  cried. 
The  gift  he  took,  no  word  replied. 
Then  Brigu's  son  his  silence  broke 
And  thus  to  Rama  Rama  spoke: 

CANTO  LXXV. 


THE  PARLB. 

'  Heroic  Rama,  men  proclaim 
The  marvels  of  thy  matchless  fame, 
And  I  from  loud-voiced  rumour  know 
The  exploit  of  the  broken  bow, 
Yea,  bent  and  broken,  mighty  Chief, 
A  feat  most  wondrous,  past  belief. 
Stirred  by  thy  fame  thy  face  1  sought: 
A  peerless  bow  1  too  have  brought. 
This  mighty  weapon,  strong  and  dire, 
Great  Jamadagni  owned,  my  sire. 
iJraw  with  its  shaft  my  father's  bow, 
And  thus  thy  might,  O  Kama,  show. 
This  proof  of  prowess  let  me  see — 
The  weapon  bent  and  drawn  by  thee  ; 
Then  single  fight  our  strength  shall  tiy, 
And  this  shall  raise  thy  glory  high.' 
King  Dasaratha  heard  with  dread 
The  boastful  speech,  and  thus  he  said  ; 
Raising  his  hands  hi  suppliant  guise, 
With  pallid  cheek  and  timid  eyes: 
'Forgetful  of  the  bloody  feud 
Ascetic  toils  hast  thou  pursued  ; 
Then,  Brahman,  let  my  children  be 
Untroubled  and  from  danger  free, 
Sprung  of  the  race  of  Bhrigu,  who 
Head  holy  lore,  to  vows  most  true, 
Thou  swarest  to  the  Thousand-eyed 
And  thy  tierce  axe  was  cast  aside. 
Thou  turnedst  to  thy  rites  away 
Leaving  the  earth  to  Kagyap's  sway, 
And  we u test  far  a  grove  to  seek 
Beneath  Mahendra's1  mountain  peak. 


1  '  The  author  of  the  Ragliuvansa  places 
the  mountain  Mahendra  in  the  territory 
of  the  king  of  the  Kaliiigans,  whose  palace 
commanded  a  view  of  the  ocean.  It  is 
well  known  that  the  country  along  the 
coast  to  the  south  of  the  mouths  of  the 
Gauges  was  the  seat  of  this  people.  Hence 
jt  may  be  suspected  that  this  Mahendra 
is  what  Pliny  calls  "  promontorium  Cal- 
ingoii."  The  modern  name  Cape  Pal- 
wyras,  from  the  palmyras  (Borassus  hV 
beilitorniis)  whica  abound  there  agrees 


ttow,  mighty  Hermit,  art  thou  here 
To  slay  us  all  with  doom  severe? 
For  if  alone  my  Rama  fall, 
We  share  his  fate  and  perish  all.' 

As  thus  the  aged  sire  complained 
The  mighty  chief  no  answer  deigned. 
To  Rama  only  thus  he  cried  : 
'  Two  bows,  the  Heavenly  Artist's  pride, 
Celestial,  peerless,  vast,  and  strong, 
By  all  the  worlds  were  honoured  long. 
One  to  the  Three -eyed  God1  was  given, 
Bv  glory  to  the  conflict  driven, 
Thus  armed  fierce  Tripura  he  slew  : 
And  then  by  thee  'twas  burst  in  two. 
The  second  bow,  which  few  may  brave, 
The  highest  Gods  to  Vishnu  gave. 
This  bow  I  hold  :  before  it  fall 
The  foeman's  fenced  tower  and  wall. 
Then  prayed  the  Gods  the  Sire  Most  High 
Bv  some  unerring  proof  to  try 
Were  praise  for  might  Lord  Vishnu's  due, 
Or  his  whose  Neck  is|stained  with  Blue.5' 
The  mighty  Sire  their  wishes  knew, 
And  he  whose  lips  are  ever  true 
Caused  the  two  Gods  to  meet  as  foes. 
Then  fierce   the  rage  of 'battle  rose: 
Bristled  in  dread  each  starting  hair 
As  $iva  strove  with  Vishnu  there. 
But  Vishnu  raised  his  voice  amain, 
And  £iva''s  bowstring  twanged  in  vain  ; 
Its  master  of  the  Three  bright  Eyes 
Stood  tixt  in  fury  and  surprise. 
Then  all  the  dwellers  in  the  sky, 
•Minstrel,  and  saint,  and  God  drew  nigh, 
And  prayed  them  that  the  strife  might  cease, 
And  the  great  rivals  met  in  peace. 
'Twas  seen  how  Diva's  bow  has  failed 
Unnerved,  when  Vishnu's  might  assailed, 
And  Gods  and  heavenly  sages  thence 
To  Vishnu  gave  preeminence. 
Then  glorious  $iva  in  his  rage 
Gave  it  to  Devarat  the  sage 
Who  ruled  Videha's  fertile  land, 
To  pass  it  down  from  hand  to  hand. 
But  this  my  bow,  whose  shafts  smite  down 
The  foeman's  fenced  tower  and  town. 
To  great  Richika  Vishnu  lent 
To  be  a  pledge  and  ornament. 
Then  Jamadagni,  Brahman  dread, 
My  sire,  the  bow  inherited. 
But  Arjun  stooped  to  treachery  vile 
And  slew  my  noble  sire  by  guile, 
Whose  penance  awful  strength  had  gained, 
Whose  hand  the  God  -given  bow  retained. 


remarkably  with  the  description  of  the 
poet  who  speaks  of  the  groves  of  these 
trees.  Ragkuvahta,  VI.  51.'  SCHLEGEL. 

1  £iva 

z  Siva,  God  of  the  Azure  Neck.  • 


Canto  LXXVI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


87 


I  heard  indignant  how  he  fell 

By  mournful  fate,  too  sad  to  tell. 

My  vengeful  fury  since  that  time 

Scourges  all  Warriors  for  the  crime. 

As  generations  spring  to  life 

I  war  tliem  down  in  endless  strife. 

All  earth  I  brought  beneath  my  sway, 

And  gave  it  for  his  meed  and  pay 

To  holy  Kasyap,  when  of  yore 

The  rites  performed  by  him  were  o'er. 

Then  to  Mahendra's  hill  I  turned 

Strong  in  the  strength  that  penance  earned, 

And  toiled  upon  his  lofty  head 

By  Gods  immortal  visited. 

The  breaking  of  the  bow  I  knew 

From  startled  Gods  conversing,  through 

The  airy  regions,  of  thy  deed, 

And  hither  came  with  swiftest  speed. 

Now,  for  thy  Warrior's  honour  sake, 

This  best  of  bows,  O  Rama,  take  : 

This,  owned  by  Vishnu's  self  of  old, 

My  sire  and  grandsire  loved  to  hold. 

Drawn  to  its  head  upon  the  string 

One  town-destroying  arrow  bring  ; 

If  this  thou  can,  O  hero,  1 

In  single  tight  thy  strength  will  try.' 


CANTO  LXXVI. 


DEBARRED  FROM  HEAVEN. 

The  haughty  challenge,  undeterred 
The  son  of  Dasaratha  heard, 
And  cried,  while  reverence  for  his  sire 
Checked  the  full  torrent  of  his  ire: 
'  Before  this  day  have  I  been  told 
The  deed  that  stained  thy  hands  of  old. 
But  pity  bids  my  soul  forget  : 
Thy  father,  murdered,  claimed  the  debt. 
My  strength,  O  Chief,  thou  deemest  slight, 
Too  feeble  for  a  Warrior's  might. 
Now  will  I  show  thy  wondering  eyes 
The  prowess  which  they  dare  despise,' 
He  hastened  then  with  graceful  ease 
That  mighty  bow  and  shaft  to  seize. 
His  hand  the  weapon  strung  and  swayed  : 
The  arrow  on  the  string  was  laid. 
Then  Jamadagni's  son  he  eyed, 
And  thus  in  words  of  fury  cried : 
'  Thou  art  a  Brahman,  still  to  be 
Most  highly  honoured,  Chief,  by  me. 
For  Visvtunitra's  sake  beside 
Shall  reverence  due  be  ne'er  denied. 
Though  mine  the  power,  I  would  not  send 
A  dart  at  thee  thy  life  to  end. 
But  thy  great  power  to  wander  free, 
Which  penance-rites  have  won  for  thee, 
Or  glorious  worlds  from  thee  to  wrest, 
Is  the  iirin  purpose  of  my  breast. 


And  Vishnu's  dart  which  now  I  strain 
Can  ne'er  be  shot  to  fall  in  vain  : 
It  strikes  the  mighty,  and  it  stuns 
The  madness  of  the  haughty  ones.' 

Then  Gods,  and  saints  and  heavenly  choir 
Preceded  by  the  General  Sire, 
Met  in  the  air  and  gazed  below 
On  Rama  with  that  wondrous  bow. 
Nymph,  minstrel,  angel,  all  were  there, 
Snake-God,  and  spirit  of  the  air, 
Giant,  and  bard,  and  gryphon,  met, 
Their  eyes  upon  the  marvel  set. 
In  senseless  hush  the  world  was  chained 
While  Rama's  hand  the  bow  retained. 
And  Jamadagni's  son  amazed 
And  powerless  on  the  hero  gazed. 
Then  when  his  swelling  heart  had  shrunk, 
And  his  proud  strength  in  torpor  sunk, 
Scarce  his  voice  ventured,  low  and  weak, 
To  Rama  lotus-eyed,  to  speak: 
'  When  long  ago  I  gave  away 
The  whole  broad  land  to  Kasyap's  sway, 
He  charged  me  never  to  remain 
Within  the  limits  of  his  reign. 
Obedient  to  my  guide's  behest 
On  earth  by  night  I  never  rest. 
My  choice  is  made.    I  will  not  dim 
Mine  honour  and  be  false  to  him. 
So,  son  of  Raghu,  leave  me  still 
The  power  to  wander  where  I  will, 
And  swifter  than  the  thought  rny  flight 
Shall  place  me  on  Mahendra's  height. 
My  mansions  of  eternal  joy, 
By  penance  won,  thou  mayst  destroy. 
My  path  to  these  thy  shaft  may  stay. 
Now  to  the  work  !  No  more  delay  1 
I  know  thee  Lord  of  Gods  ;  J  know 
Thy  changeless  might  laid  Madhu  low. 
All  other  hands  would  surely  fail 
To  bend  this  bow.    All  hail !  all  hail ! 
See  !  all  the  Gods  have  left  the  skies 
To  bend  on  thee  their  eager  eyes, 
With  whose  achievements  none  compete, 
Whose  arm  in  war  no  God  can  meet. 
No  shame  is  mine.  I  ween,  for  thou, 
Lord  of  the  Worlds,  hast  dimmed  my  brow. 
Now,  pious  Rama,  'tis  thy  part 
To  shoot  afar  that  glorious  dart : 
I,  when  the  fatal  shaft  is  shot, 
Will  seek  that  hill  and  tarry  not.* 

He  ceased.    The  wondrous  arrow  flew, 
And  Jamadagni's  offspring  knew 
Those  glorious  worlds  to  him  were  barred, 
Once  gained  by  penance  long  and  hard, 
Then  straight  the  airy  quarters  cleared, 
And  the  mid  regions  bright  appeared, 
While  Gods  and  saints  unnumbered  praised 
Rama,  the  mighty  bow  who  raised. 
And  Jamadagni's  son,  o 'era wed, 
Extolled  his  name  with  highest  laud, 


88 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  I. 


With  reverent  steps  around  him  strode, 
Then  hastened  on  his  airyfroad. 
Far  from  the  sight  of  all  he  fled, 
And  rested  on  Mahendra's  head, 


CANTO  LXXVIL 


BHABAT'S  DEPARTURE. 

Then  Rama  with  a  cheerful  mind 
The  bow  to  Varun's  hand  resigned. 
Due  reverence  to  the  saints  he  paid, 
And  thus  addressed  his  sire  dismayed  : 
*  As  Bhrigu's  son  is  far  from  view, 
Now  let  the  host  its  march  pursue, 
And  to  Ayodhya's  town  proceed 
In  four-fold  bands,  with  thee  to  lead,' 

King  Dasnratha  thus  addressed 
His  lips  to  Rama's  forehead  pressed, 
And  held  him  to  his  aged  breast. 
Rejoiced  in  sooth  was  he  to  know 
That  Bhrigu's  son  had  parted  so, 
And  hailed  a  second  life  begun 
For  him  and  his  victorious  son. 
He  urged  the  host  to  speed  renewed, 
And  soon  Ayodhya's  gates  he  viewed. 
High  o'er  the  roofs  gay  pennons  played; 
Tabour  and  drum  loud  music  made  ; 
Fresh  water  cooled  the  royal  road, 
And  flowers  in  bright  profusion  glowed. 
Glad  crowds  with  garlands  thronged  the 

ways 

Rejoicing  on  their  king  to  gaze 
And  all  the  town  was  bright  and  gay 
Exulting  in  the  festive  day. 
People  and  Brahmans  flocked  to  meet 
Their  monarch  ere  he  gained  the  street, 
The  glorious  king  amid  the  throng 
Rode  with  his  glorious  sons  along, 
And  passed  within  his  dear  abode 
That  like  Himalaya's  mountain  showed. 
And  there  Kausalya,  noble  queen, 
Sumitra  with  her  lovely  mien, 
Kaikeyi  of  the  dainty  waist, 
And  other  dames  his  bowers  who  graced, 
Stood  in  the  palace  side  by  side 
And  welcomed  home  each  youthful  bride: 
Fair  Sita,  lofty-fated  dame, 
Urmil£  of  the  glorious  fame, 
And  Kusadhwaja's  children  fair, 
With  joyous  greeting  and  with  prayer, 
As  all' in  linen  robes  arrayed 
With  offerings  at  the  altars  prayed. 
Due  reverence  paid  to  Gods  above, 
Each  princess  gave  her  soul  to  love, 
And  hidden  in  her  inmost  bower 
Passed  with  her  lord  each  blissful  hour. 
The  royal  youths,  of  spirit  high, 
With  whom  in  valour  none  could  vie, 


Lived  each  within  his  palace  bounds 
Bright  as  Kuvera's  pleasure-grounds, 
With  riches,  troops  of  faithful  friends, 
And  bliss  that  wedded  life  attend*  : 
Brave  princes,  trained  in  warlike  skill, 
A  nd  duteous  to  their  father's  will. 
At  length  the  monarch  called  one  morn 
Prince  Bharat,  of  Kaikeyi  born, 
And  cried  :  '  My  son,  within  our  gates 
Lord  Yudhajit  thine  uncle  waits. 
The  son  of  Kekaya's  king  is  he, 
And  came,  my  child,  to  summon  thee.1 
Then  Bharat  for  the  road  prepared, 
And  with  £atrughna  forth  he  fared. 
First  to  his  sire  he  bade  adieu, 
Brave  Rama,  and  his  mothers  too. 
Lord  Yudhajit  with  joyful  pride 
Went  forth,  the  brothers  by  his  side, 
And  reached  the  city  where  he  dwelt; 
And  mighty  joy  his  father  felt. 

R&ma  and  Lakshman  honoured  still 
Their  godlike  sire  with'duteous  will. 
Two  constant  guides  for  Rama  stood, 
His  father's  wish,  the  people's  good. 
Attentive  to  the  general  weal 
He  thought  and  wrought  to  please  and  heal. 
His  mothers  too  he  strove  to  please 
With  love  and  sonly  courtesies. 
At  every  time,  in  every  spot, 
His  holy  guides  he  ne'er  forgot. 
So  for  his  virtues  kind  and  true 
Dearer  and  dearer  Rama  grew  . 
To  Dasaratha,  Brahmans,  all 
In  town  and  country,  great  and  small. 
And  Rama  by  his  darling's  side 
Saw  many  a  blissful  season  glide, 
Lodged  in  her  soul,  each  thought  on  her, 
Lover,  and  friend,  and  worshipper. 
He  loved  her  for  his  father's  voice 
Had  given  her  and  approved  the  choice  : 
He  loved  her  for  each  charm  she  wore 
And  her  sweet  virtues  more  and  more, 
So  he  her  lord  and  second  life 
Dwelt  in  the  bosom  of  his  wife, 
In  double  form,  that,  e'en  apart, 
Each  heart  could  commune  free  with  heart. 

Still  grew  that  child  of  Janak's  race, 
More  goddess- fair  in  form  and  face, 
The  loveliest  wife  that  e'er  was  seen, 
In  mortal  mould  sweet  Beauty's  Queen. 
Then  shone  the  son  Kausalya  bore, 

With  this  bright  dame  allied, 
Like  Vishnu  whom  the  Gods  adore, 

With  La'kshmi  by  his  side. 


Canto  I. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


8t 


BOOK  II. 


CANTO  I. 


THE  HEIR  APPARENT. 

So  Bharat  to  his  grandsire  went 
Obedient  to  the  message  sent, 
And  for  his  fond  companion  chose 
Batrughna  slayer  of  his  foes.1 
There  Bharat  for  a  time  remained 
With  love  and  honour  entertained, 
King  Asvapati'i  constant  care, 
Beloved  as  a  son  and  heir. 
Yet  ever,  as  they  lived  at  ease, 
While  all  around  combined  to  please, 
The  aged  sire  they  left  behind 
Was  present  to  each  hero's  mind. 
Nor  could  the  king's  fond  memory  stray 
From  his  brave  children  far  away, 
Dear  Bharat  and  Batrughna  dear, 
Each  Varun's  match  or  Indra's  peer. 

To  all  the  princes,  young  and  brave, 
His  soul  with  fond  affection  clave  ; 
Around  his  loving  heart  they  clung 
Like  arms  from  his  own  body  sprung.2 
But  best  and  noblest  of  the  four, 
Good  as  the  God  whom  all  adore, 
Lord  of  all  virtues,  undefiled, 
His  darling  was  his  eldest  child. 
For  he  was  beautiful  and  strong, 
From  envy  free,  the  foe  of  wrong, 
With  all  his  father's  virtues  blest, 
And  peerless  in  the  world  confessed. 
With  placid  soul  he  softly  spoke  : 
No  harsh  reply  cauld  taunts  provoke. 
He  ever  loved  the  good  and  sage 
Revered  for  virtue  and  for  age, 
And  when  his  martial  tasks  were  o'er 
Sate  listening  to  their  peaceful  lore. 
Wise,  modest,  pure,  he  honoured  eld, 
His  lips  from  lying  tales  withheld  ; 
Due  reverence  to  the  Brahmans  gave, 
And  ruled  each  passion  like  a  slave. 
Most  tender,  prompt  at  duty's  call, 
Loved  by  all  men  he  loved  them  all. 
Proud  of  the  duties  of  his  race, 
With  spirit  meet  for  Warrior's  place, 
He  strove  to  win  by  glorious  deed, 
Throned  with  the  6ods,  a  priceless  meed. 


1  £atraghna  means  slayer  of  foes,  and  the 
word  is  repeated  as  an  intensive  epithet. 

*  Alluding  to  the  images  of  Vishnu, 
which  have  four  arms,  the  four  princes 
being  portions  of  the  substance  of  that  God, 


With  him  in  speech  and  quick  reply 

Vrihaspati  might  hardly  Tie, 

But  never  would  his  accents  flow 

For  evil  or  for  empty  show, 

In  art  and  science  duly  trained, 

His  student  vow  he  well  maintained ; 

He  learnt  the  lore  for  princes  fit, 

The  Vedas  and  their  Holy  Writ, 

And  with  his  well-drawn  bow  at  last 

His  mighty  father's  fame  surpassed. 

Of  birth  exalted,  truthful,  just, 

With  vigorous  hand,  with  noble  trust, 

Well  taught  by  aged  twice-born  men 

Who  gain  and  right  could  clearly  ken, 

Full  well  the  claims  and  bounds  he  knew 

Of  duty,  gain,  and  pleasure  too  : 

Of  memory  keen,  of  ready  tact, 

In  civil  business  prompt  to  act. 

Reserved,  his  features  ne'er  disclosed 

What  counsel  in  his  heart  reposed. 

All  idle  rage  and  mirth  controlled, 

He  knew  the  times  to  give  and  hold, 

Firm  in  his  faith,  of  steadfast  will, 

He  sought  no  wrong,  he  spoke  no  ill  : 

Not  rashly  swift,  not  idly  slow, 

His  faults  and  others'  keen  to  know. 

Each  merit,  by  his  subtle  sense  ; 

He  matched  with  proper  recompense. 

He  knew  the  means  that  wealth  provide. 

And  with  keen  eye  expense  could  guide. 

Wild  elephants  could  he  reclaim, 

And  mettled  steeds  could  mount  and  tame, 

No  arm  like  his  the  bow  could  wield, 

Or  drive  the  chariot  to  the  field. 

Skilled  to  attack,  to  deal  the  blow, 

Or  lead  a  host  against  the  foe  : 

Yea,  e'en  infuriate  Gods  would  fear 

To  meet  his  arm  in  full  career. 

As  the  great  sun  in  noontide  blaze 

Is  glorious  with  his  world  of  rays, 

So  Rama  with  these  virtues  shone 

Which  all  men  loved  to  gaze  upon. 

The  aged  monarch  fain  would  rest, 
And  said  within  his  weary  breast, 
'  Oh  that  I  might,  while  living  yet, 
My  Rama  o'er  the  kingdom  set. 
And  see,  before  my  course  be  run, 
The  hallowed  drops  anoint  my  son  ; 
See  all  this  spacious  land  obey, 
From  side  to  side,  my  first-born's  sway, 
And  then,  my  life  and  joy  complete, 
Obtain  in  heaven  a  blissful  seat ! ' 
In  him  the  monarch  saw  combined 
The  fairest  form,  the  noblest  mind, 
And  counselled  how  his  son  might  share. 
The  throne  with  him  as  Regent'  Heir. 
For  fearful  signs  in  earth  and  sky, 
And  weakness  warned  him  death  was  night 
But  Rama  to  the  world  endeared 
By  every  grace  his  bosain  cheered, 


90 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  IT. 


The  moon  of  every  eye,  whose  ray 
Drove  all  his  grief  and  fear  away. 
So  duty  urged  that  hour  to  seize, 
Himself,  his  realm,  to  bless  and  please. 
From  town  and  country,  far  and  near, 
He  summoned  people,  prince,  and  peer. 
To  each  he  gave  a  meet  abode, 
And  honoured  all  and  gifts  bestowed. 
Then,  splendid  in  his  king's  attire, 
}Ie  viewed  them,  as  the  general  Sire, 
In  glory  of  a  God  arrayed, 
Looks  on  the  creatures  he  has  made. 
But  Kekaya's  king  he  called  not  then 
For  haste,  nor  Janak,  lord  of  men  ; 
For  after  to  each  royal  friend 
The  joyful  tidings  he  would  send. 
Mid  crowds  from  distant  countries  met 
The  .king  upon  his  throne  was  set  ; 
Then  honoured  by  the  people,  all 
The  rulers  thronged  into  the  hall. 
On  thrones  assigned,  each  king  in  place 
Looked  silent  on  the  monarch's  face. 
Then  girt  by  lords  of  high  renown 
And  throngs  from  hamlet  and  from  town 

He  showed  in  regal  pride, 
As,  honoured  by  the  rediant  band 
Of  blessed  Gods  that  round  him  stand, 
Lord  Indra,  Thousand-eyed. 


CANTO  II. 


THE  PEOPLE'S  SPEECH. 

Then  to  the  full  assembly  bowed 
The  monarch,  and  addressed  the  crowd 
"With  gracious  speech,  in  accents  loud 
As  heavenly  drum  or  thunder- cloud : 

'  Needs  not  to  you  who  know  declare 
How  ever  with  paternal  care 
My  fathers  of  Ikshviiku's  line 
Have  ruled  the  realm  Avliich  now  is  mine. 
j  too  have  taught  my  feet  to  tread 
The  pathway  of  the  mighty  dead, 
And  with  fond  care  that  never  slept 
Have,  as  I  could,  my  people  kept. 
So  toiling  still,  and  ne'er  remiss 
For  all  my  people's  wenl  and  bliss, 
Heneath  the  white  umbrella's1  shade, 
Old  age  is  come  and  strength  decayed. 
Thousands  of  yoars  have  o'er  me  rlown, 
And  generations  round  me  grown 
And  passed  away.    1  crave  at  length 
Repose  and  ease  for  broken  strength, 
Feeble  and  worn  I  scarce  can  bear 
The  ruler's  toil,  the  judge's  care, 
With  royal  dignity,  a  weight 
That  tries  the  young  and  temperate. 


»  Chief  of  tho  insignia  of  imperial  dignity 


I  long  to  re-t,  my  labour  done, 
And  in  my  place  to  set  my  son, 
If  to  the  twice- born  gathered  here 
My  counsel  wise  and  good  appear. 
For  greater  gifts  than  mine  adorn 
Kama  my  son,  my  eldest-born. 
Like  Indra  brave,  before  him  fall 
The  foeman's  cities,  tower  and  wall. 
Him  prince  of  men  for  power  and  might, 
The  best  maintainer  of  the  right, 
Fair  as  the  moon  when  nothing  bars 
His  glory  close  to  Pushya's  stnrs, 
Him  with  to-morrow's  light  I  fain 
Would  throne  the  consort  of  my  reign. 
A  worthy  lord  for  you,  I  ween, 
Marked  as  her  own  by  Fortune's  Queen. 
The  triple  world  itself  would  be 
Well  ruled  by  such  a  king  as  he. 
To  such  high  bliss  and  happy  fate 
Will  I  the  country  dedicate, 
And  my  sad  heart  will  cease  to  grieve 
If  he  the  precious  charge  receive. 
Thus  is  my  careful  plan  matured, 
Thus  for  myself  is  rest  secured  ; 
Lieges,  approve  the  words  1  say, 
Or  point  ye  out  some  wiser  way. 
Devise  your  prudent  plan.    My  mind 
Is  fondly  to  this  thought  inclined, 
But  men  by  keen  debating  move 
Some  middle  course  which  all  approve.' 

The  monarch  ceased.     In  answer  came 
The  joyous  princes'  glad  acclaim. 
So  peacocks  in  the  rain  rejoice 
And  hail  the  cloud  with  lifted  voice. 
Murmurs  of  joy  from  thousands  round 
Shook  the  high  palace  with  the  sound. 
Then  when  the  gathered  throng  had  lea rn^q 
His  will  who  right  and  gain  discerned, 
Peasant  and  townsman,  priest  and  chief, 
All  met  in  consultation  brief, 
And  soon  agreed  with  one  accord 
Gave  answer  to  their  sovereign  lord  : 
'  King  of  the  land,  we  know  thee  old  : 
Thousands  of  years  have  o'er  thee  rolled, 
llama  thy  son,  we  pray,  anoint, 
And  at  thy  side  his  place  appoint. 
Our  gallant  prince,  so  brave  and  strong, 
Riding  in  royal  state  along, 
Our  eyes  with  joyful  pride  will  see 
Screened  by  the  shade  that  shelters  thee.' 
Then  spoke  the  king  a^ain,  as  though 
Their  hearts'  true  wish  he  sought  to  know : 
'These  prayers  for  llama's  rule  suggest 
One  question  to  my  doubting  breast. 
This  tiling,  I  pray,  with  truth  explain: 
Why  would  ye,  while  I  justly  reign, 
That  he,  mine  eldest  son,  should  bear 
His  part  with  me  as  ruling  heir?' 
Then  all  the  people  made  reply, 
Peasant  and  townsman,  low  and  high  : 
4  Each  noblest  gift  of  form  and  niind, 


Canto  fit 


TUB  RAMAYAN. 


O  Monarch,  in  thy  son  we  find. 
Do  thou  the  godlike  virtues  hear 
Which  Rama  to  our  hearts  endear. 
So  richly  blest  with  graces,  none 
In  all  the  earth  excels  thy  son  : 
Nay,  who  to  match  with  him  may  claim 
In  truth,  in  justice,  and  in  fame? 
True  to  his  promise,  gentle,  kind, 
Unenvious,  of  grateful  mind, 
Versed  in  the  law  and  firm  of  soul, 
He  keeps  each  sense  with  strict  control, 
With  duteous  care  he  loves  to  sit 
By  Hrrihmaiis  skilled  in  Holy  Writ. 
Hence  brightest  glory,  ne'er  to  end, 
And  matchless  fame  his  youtli  attend. 
Skilled  in  the  use  of  spear  and  shield. 
And  arms  which  heavenly  warriors  wield, 
Supreme  in  war,  unconqiiered  yet 
By  man,  fiend,  God  in  battle  met, 
Whene'er  in  pomp  of  war  he  goes 
'Gainst  town  or  city  of  the  foes, 
He  ever  comes  with  Lakshman  back 
Victorious  from  the  fierce  attack, 
Returning  homeward  from  afar 
Borne  on  his  elephant  or  car, 
He  ever  to  the  townsmen  bends 
And  greets  them  as  beloved  friends, 
Asks  how  each  son,  each  servant  thrives, 
How  fare  our  pupils,  offerings,  wives  ; 
And  like  a  father  bids  us  tell, 
Each  for  himself,  that  all  is  well. 
If  pain  or  grief  the  city  tries 
His  heart  is  swift  to  sympathize. 
When  festive  scenes  our  thoughts  employ 
He  like  a  father  shares  the  jov. 
High  is  the  fate,  O  King,  that  gave 
Thy  Kama  born  to  bless  and  save, 
With  filial  virtues  fair  and  mild 
Like  Kasyap  old  Marichi's  child. 
Hence  to  the  kingdom's  distant  ends 
One  general  prayer  for  him  ascends. 
Each  man  in  town  and  country  prays 
For  Kama's  strength, health.length  of  days. 
With  hearts  sincere,  their  wish  the  same, 
The  tender  girl,  the  aged  dame, 
Subject  and  stranger,  peasant,  hind, 
One  thought  impressed  on  every  miiid, 
At  evening  and  at  dawning  day 
To  all  the  Gods  for  Kama  pray. 
Do  thou,  O  King,  of  grace  comply, 
And  hear  the  people's  longing  cry. 
And  let  us  on  the  throne  by  thee 
The  lotus-tinted  Rama  see. 

O  thou  who  givest  boons,  attend  ; 
A  gracious  ear,  O  Monarch,  lend 

And  for  our  weal  install, 
Consenting  to  our  earnest  prayer, 
Thy  godlike  Rama  Regent  Heir, 
Who  seeks  the  good  of  all.' 


CANTO  III. 

DA&ARATHA'S  PRECEPTS. 

The  monarch  with  the  prayer  complied 
Of  suppliant  hands,  on  every  side 
Uplifted  like  a  lotus -bed  : 
And  then  these  gracious  words  he  said  : 
*  Great  joy  and  mighty  fame  are  mine 
Because  your  loving  hearts  incline, 
In  full  assembly  clearly  shown 
To  place  my^  Rama  on  the  throne.' 
Then  to  Vaaishtha,  standing  near, 
And  Vamadeva  loud  and  clear 
The  monarch  spoke  that  all  might  hear  • 
'  "Tis  pure  and  lovely  Chaitra  now 
When  flowers  are  sweet  on  every  bough, 
All  needful  things  with  haste  prepare 
That  Rama  be  appointed  heir.' 

Then  burst  the  people's  rapture  out 
In  loud  acclaim  and  joyful  shout- 
And  when  the  tumult  slowly  ceased 
The  king  addressed  the  holy  priest  : 
'Give  order,  Saint,  with  watchful  heed 
lor  what  the  coming  rite  will  need. 
This  day  let  all  things  ready  wait 
Mine  eldest  son  to  consecrate.' 
Best  of  all  men  of  second  birth 
VasjfihtJha  heard  the  lord  of  earth, 
And  gave  commandment  to  the  bands 
Of  servitors  with  lifted  hands 
Who  waited  on  their  master's  eye : 
'Now  by  to-morrow's  dawn  supply 
Rich  gold  and  herbs  and  gems  of  price 
And  offerings  for  the  sacrifice, 
Wreaths  of  white  flowers  and  roasted  rice, 
Ana  oil  and  honey,  separate ; 
New  garments  and  a  car  of  state, 
An  elephant  with  lucky  signs 
A  fourfold  host  in  ordered  lines, 
The  white  umbrella,  and  a  pair 
Of  chowries,1  and  a  banner  fair  • 
A  hundred  vases,  row  on  row, 
To  shine  like  fire  in  splendid  glow, 
A  tiger  3  mighty  skin,  a  bull 
With  gilded  hol-ns  most  beautiful. 
All  these,  at  dawn  of  coming  day, 
Around  the  royal  shrine  array, 
Where  burns  the  fire's  undying  ray. 
liach  palace  door,  each  city  gate 
With  wreaths  of  sandal  decorate, 
And  \fith  the  garlands'  fragrant  soenf) 
bet  clouds  of  incense-smoke  be  blent. 
;.et  food  of  noble  kind  and  taste 
.te  for  a  hundred  thousand  placed; 
fresh  curds  with  streams  of  milk  bedewed 
lo  feed  the  Brahman  multitude. 


1  Whisks,  usually  made  of  the  loug  tails 
>f  the  Yak, 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  //. 


With  care  be  all  their  wants  supplied, 
And  mid  the  twice-born  chiefs  divide 
Rich  largess,  with  the  early  morn, 
And  oil  and  curds  and  roasted  corn. 
Soon  as  the  sun  has  shown  his  light 
Pronounce  the  prayer  to  bless  the  rite, 
And  then  be  all  the  Brahmans  called 
And  in  their  ordered  seats  installed. 
Let  all  musicians  skilled  to  play, 
And  dancing-girls  in  bright  array 
Stand  ready  in  the  second  ring 
Within  the  palace  of  the  king. 
Each  honoured  tree,  each  holy  shrine 
With  leaves  and  flowery  wreaths  entwine, 
And  here  and  there  beneath  the  shade 
Be  food  prepared  and  presents  laid. 
Then  brightly  clad,  in  warlike  guise, 
With  long  swords  girt  upon  their  thighs, 
Let  soldiers  of  the  nobler  sort 
March  to  the  monarch's  splendid  court.' 

Thus  gave  command  the  twice-born  pair 
To  active  servants  stationed  there. 
Then  hastened  to  the  king  and  said 
That  all  their  task  was  duly  sped. 
The  king  to  wise  Sumantra  spake : 
*  Now  quick,  my  lord,  thy  chariot  take, 
And  hither  with  thy  swiftest  speed 
My  son,  my  noble  Rama  lead.' 

Sumantra.  ere  the  word  was  given, 
His  chariot  from  the  court  had  driven, 
And  Rama,  best  of  all  who  ride 
In  cars,  came  sitting  by  his  side. 
The  lords  of  men  had  hastened  forth 
From  east  and  west  and  south  and  north, 
Aryan  and  stranger,  those  who  dwell 
In  the  wild  wood  and  on  the  fell, 
And  as  the  Gods  to  Indra,  they 
Showed  honour  to  the  king  that  day. 
Like  V6sav,  when  his  glorious  form 
Is  circled  by  the  Gods  of  storm, 
Girt  in  his  hall  by  kings  he  saw 
His  car-borne  Rama  near  him  draw, 
Like  him  who  rules  the  minstrel  band 
Of  heaven  j1  whose  valour  filled  the  land, 
Of  mighty  arm  and  stately  pride 
Like  a  wild  elephant  in  stride, 
As  fair  in  face  as  that  fair  stone 
Dear  to  the  moon,  of  moonbeams  grown,1 
With  noble  gifts  and  grace  that  took 
The  hearts  of  all,  and  chained  each  look, 
World-cheering  as  the  Lord  of  Rain 
When  floods  relieve  the  parching  plain. 
The  father,  as  the  son  came  nigh, 
Gazed  with  an  ever-thirstier  eye. 
Sumantra  helped  the  prince  alight 


1  Chitraratha,  King  of  the  Gandharvas. 

*  The  Chandrakanta  or  Moonstone,  a 
gort  of  crystal  supposed  to  be  composed 
of  congealed  moonbeams, 


From  the  good  chariot  passing  bright, 
And  as  to  meet  his  sire  he  went 
Followed  behind  him  reverent. 
Then  R&ma  clomb,  the  king  to  seek, 
That  terrace  like  Kailasa's  peak, 
And  reached  the  presence  of  the  king, 
Sumantra  closely  following. 
Before  his  father's  face  he  came, 
Raised  suppliant  hands  and  named  his 

name,1 

And  bowing  lowly  as  is  meet 
Paid  reverence  to  the  monarch's  feet. 
But  soon  as  Dasaratha  viewed 
The  prince  in  humble  attitude, 
He  raised  him  by  the  hand  in  haste 
And  his  beloved  son  embraced, 
Then  signed  him  to  a  glorious  throne, 
Gem-decked  and  golden,  near  his  own. 
Then  Rama,  best  of  Raghu's  line, 
Made  the  fair  seat  with  lustre  shine, 
As  when  the  orient  sun  upsprings 
And  his  pure  beam  on  Meru  flings. 
The  glory  flashed  on  roof  and  wall, 
And  with  strange  sheen  suffused  the  hall, 
As  when  the  moon's  pure  rays  are  sent 
Through  autumn's  star-lit  firmament. 
Then  swelled  his  breast  with  joy  and  pride 
As  his  dear  son  the  father  eyed, 
E'en  as  himeself  more  fair  arrayed 
In  some  clear  mirror's  face  displayed. 
The  aged  monarch  gazed  awhile, 
Then  thus  addressed  him  with  a  smile, 
As  Kasyap,  whom  the  worlds  revere, 
Speaks  for  the  Lord  of  Gods  to  hear  : 
'  O  thou  of  all  my  sons  most  dear, 
In  virtue  best,  thy  father's  peer, 
Child  of  my  consort  first  in  place, 
Mine  equal  in  her  pride  of  race, 
Because  the  people's  hearts  are  bound 
To  thee  by  graces  in  thee  found, 
Be  thou  in  Pushya's  favouring  hour 
Made  partner  of  my  royal  power. 
I  know  that  thou  by  nature's  bent 
Both  modest  art  and  excellent, 
But  though  thy  gifts  no  counsel  need 
My  love  suggests  the  friendly  rede. 
Mine  own  dear  son,  be  modest  still, 
And  rule  each  sense  with  earnest  will. 
Keep  thou  the  evils  far  away 
That  spring  from  love  and  anger's  sway. 
Thy  noble  course  alike  pursue 
In  secret  as  in  open  view, 
And  every  nerve,  the  love  to  gain 
Of  ministers  and  subjects,  strain. 
The  happy  prince  who  sees  with  pride 
TTis  thriving  people  satisfied  ; 
Whose  arsenals  with  arms  are  stored, 
And  treasury  with  golden  hoard, — 

1  A  customary  mark  of   respect  to  a 
superior. 


Canto  IV. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


His  friends  rejoice  as  joyed  the  Blest 
When  Amrit  crowned  their  eager  quest. 
So  well,  my  child,  thy  course  maintain, 
And  from  all  ill  thy  soul  refrain.' 

The  friends  of  Rama,  gathered  nigh, 
Longing  their  lord  to  gratify, 
Ran  to  Kausalya's  bower  to  tell 
The  tidings  that  would  please  her  well. 
She,  best  of  dames,  with  many  a  gem, 
And  gold,  and  kine  rewarded  them. 

Then  Rama  paid  the  reverence  due, 
Mounted  the  cnariot,  and  withdrew, 
And  to  his  splendid  dwelling  drove 
While  crowds  to  show  him  honour  strove. 

The  people,  when  the  monarch's  speed; 
Their  willing  ears  had  heard, 

Were  wild  with  joy  as  though  on  each 
Great  gifts  had  been  conferred. 

With  meek  and  low  salute  each  man 
Turned  to  his  home  away, 

And  there  with  happy  heart  began 
To  all  the  Gods  to  pray. 

CANTO  IV. 
R£MA  SUMMONED. 

The  crowd  dismissed,  to  high  debate 
The  monarch  called  his  peers  of  state, 
And,  counsel  from  their  lips  obtained, 
Firm  in  his  will  his  will  explained: 
'  1'o-m  »rrow  with  auspicious  ray 
The  moon  in  Pushya's  sign  will  stay  ; 
Be  that  the  time  with  happy  fate 
Mine  eldest  son  to  consecrate, 
And  let  my  Rama,  lotus-eyed, 
As  Regent  o'er  the  state  preside.' 

He  sought,  within,  his  charioteer, 
And  cried  *  Again  bring  Rama  here,1 
To  Rama's  home  Sumantra  hied 
Again  to  be  the  prince's  guide. 
His  coming,  told  to  Rama's  ear, 
Suggested  anxious  doubt  and  fear. 
He  bade  the  messenger  be  led 
That  instant  in,  arid  thus  he  said  : 
1  Tell  me  the  cause,  omitting  naught, 
Why  thou  again  my  house  hast  sought.' 

The  envoy  answered  :  *  Prince,  thy  sire 
Has  sent  thy  presence  to  require. 
My  sender  known,  'tis  thine  to  say 
If  thou  wilt  go  or  answer  nay.' 
Then  Rama,  when  he  heard  his  speech, 
Made  haste  the  royal  court  to  reach. 
Soon  as  the  monarch  was  aware 
His  dearest  son  was  waiting  there, 
Eager  the  parley  to  begin 
He  bade  them  lead  the  prince  within. 
Soon  as  he  passed  the  chamber  door 
The  hero  bent  him  to  the  floor, 


And  at  a  distance  from  his  seat 
Raised  his  joined  hands  his  sire  to  greet. 
The  monarch  raised  him  from  the  ground, 
And  loving  arms  about  him  wound, 
Then  pointed  to  a  seal:  that  shone 
With  gold  for  him  to  rest  upon. 
'Aged  am  I,'  he  said,  *  and  worn ; 
In  life's  best  joys  my  share  have  borne  ; 
Rites  to  the  Gods,  in  hundreds,  paid, 
With  gifts  of  corn  and  largess  made. 
I  yearned  for  sons  :  my  life  is  blest 
With  them  and  thee  of  sons  the  best. 
No  debt  to  saints  or  Brahamans,  no, 
Nor  spirits,  Gods,  or  self  I  owe. 
One  duty  now  remains  alone, 
To  set  thee  on  thy  father's  throne. 
Now  therefore,  Rama,  hear  my  rede, 
And  mark  my  words  with  duteous  heed  : 
This  day  the  peoples'  general  voice. 
Elects  thee  king  of  love  and  choice, 
And  1,  consenting  to  the  prayer, 
Will  make  thee,  darling,  Regent  Heir. 
Dread  visions,  each  returning  night, 
With  evil  omens  scare  my  sight. 
Red  meteors  with  a  fearful  sound 
tshoot  wildly  downward  to  the  ground, 
While  tempests  lash  the  troubled  air  ; 
And  they  who  read  the  stars  declare 
That,  leagued  against  my  natal  sign, 
Rahu,1  the  Sun,1  and  Mars  combine. 
When  portents  dire  as  these  appear, 
A  monarch's  death  or  woe  is  near. 
Then  while  my  senses  yet  are  spared, 
And  thought  and  will  are  unimpaired, 
Be  thou,  my  son,  anointed  king  : 
Men's  fancy  is  a  fickle  thing. 
To-day  the  moon,  in  order  due, 
Entered  the  sign  Punarvasu,3 
To-morrow,  as  the  wise  foretell, 
In  Pushya's  favouring  stars  will  dwell  : 
Then  on  the  throne  shalt  thou  be  placed  : 
My  soul,  prophetic,  counsels  haste  : 
Thee,  O  my  son,  to-morrow  I 
As  Regent  Heir  will  sanctify. 
So  till  the  coming  night  be  passed 
Do  thou  and  Sita  strictly  fast  : 
From  worldly  thoughts  thy  soul  refrain, 
And  couched  on  holy  grass  remain. 


1  Rahu,  the  ascending  node,  is  in  my- 
thology a  demon  with  the  tail  of  a  dragon 
whose  head  was  severed  from  his  body 
by  Vishnu,  but  being  immortal,   the  head 
and  tail  retained  their  separate  existence 
and  being  transferred  to  the  stellar  sphere 
became  the  authors  of  eclipses  ;  the  first 
especially  by  endeavouring  to  swallow  the 
gun  and  moon. 

2  In  eclipse. 

3  The  seventh  of  the  lunar  asterisms.    . 


THE 


Zook  11. 


And  let  thy  trusted  lords  attend 
In  careful  watch  upon  their  friend. 
For,  unexpected,  check  and  bar 
Our  weightiest  counsels  often  mar. 
While  Bharat  too  is  far  away 
Making  with  royal  kin  his  stay, 
]  deem  the  fittest  time  of  all 
Thee,  chosen  Regent,  to  install. 
Jt  may  be  Bharat  still  has  t-tood 
True  to  the  counsels  of  the  good, 
Faithful  to  thee  with  tender  trust, 
With  governed  senses,  pure  and  just. 
But  human  minds,  too  well  I  know, 
Will  sudden  changes  undergo, 
And  by  their  constant  deeds  alone 
The  virtue  of  the  good  is  shown. 
!Now,  Rama,  go.    My  son,  good  night! 
Fixt  is  to-morrow  for  the  rite.' 

Then  Rama  paid  the  reverence  due, 
And  quickly  to  his  home  withdrew. 
He  passed  within,  nor  lingered  there, 
But  sought  his  mother's  mansion,  where 
The  dame  in  linen  robes  arrayed 
Devoutly  in  the  chapel  prayed 
To  Fortune'sQueen,with  utterance  checked, 
That  she  her  Rama  would  protect. 
There  was  Sumitra  too,  and  there 
Was  Lakshman  led  by  loving  care  : 
And  when  the  royal  choice  they  knew 
Sita  in  haste  was  summoned  too. 
Absorbed,  with  half-shut  eyes,  the  queen 
Attended  by  the  three  was  seen. 
She  knew  that  Pushy a's  lucky  hour 
Would  raise  her  son  to  royal  power, 
So  fixed  with  bated  breath  each  thought 
On  God  supreme,  by  all  men  sought. 
To  her,  as  thus  she  knelt  and  prayed, 
Rama  drew  near,  due  reverence  paid, 
And  then  to  swell  his  mother's  joy, 
Thus  spoke  her  own  beloved  boy  : 
'  O  mother  dear,  my  sire's  decree 
Entrusts  the  people's  weal  to  me. 
To-morrow  I,  for  so  his  will, 
Anointed  king,  the  throne  shall  fill. 
The  few  last  hours  till  night  shall  end 
Sita  with  me  must  fasting  spend, 
For  so  my  father  has  decreed, 
And  holy  priests  with  him  agreed. 
What  vows  soever  thou  mayst  deem 
My  consecration's  eve  beseem, 
Do  thou,  sweet  mother,  for  my  sake 
And  for  beloved  Sita's  make.' 

When  the  glad  news  Kausalya  heard, 
So  long  desired,  so  long  deferred, 
While  tears  of  joy  her  utterance  broke, 
In  answer  to  her  son  she  spoke : 
•  Long  be  thy  life,  my  darling:  now 
Thy  prostrate  foes  before  thee  bow. 
Live  long  arid  with  thy  bright  success 
My  friends  and  dear  Sumitra/s  bless. 


Surely  the  stars  were  wondrous  fair 
When  thee,  sweet  son,  thy  mother  bare, 
That  thy  good  gifts  such  love  inspire 
And  win  the  favour  of  thy  sire. 
With  thee  I  travailed  riot  in  vain  ; 
Those  lotus  eyes  reward  my  pain, 
And  all  the  glory  of  the  line 
Of  old  Ikshvaku  will  be  thine.' 

He  smiled,  and  on  his  brother  gazed 
Who  sate  with  reverent  hands  upraised, 
And  said :  '  My  brother,  thou  must  be 
Joint-ruler  of  this  land  with  me. 
My  second  self  thou,  Lakshman,  art, 
And  in  ray  fortune  bearest  part. 
Be  thine,  Sumitra's  son,  to  know 
The  joys  from  regal  power  that  flow. 
My  life  itself  the  monarch's  seat, 
For  thy  dear  sake  to  me  are  sweet.' 

Thus  Rama  to  his  brother  said, 
To  both  his  mothers1  bowed  his  head, 
And  then  with  Sita  by  his  side 
To  his  own  house  the  hero  hied. 


CANTO  V. 


KAMA'S  FAST. 

Then  Saint  Vasishtha  to  the  king 

Came  ready  at  his  summoning. 

'  Now  go,'  exclaimed  the  monarch,  thou 

Enriched  by  fervent  rite  and  vow, 

For  Rama  and  his  wife  ordain 

The  fast,  that  joy  may  bless  his  reign.' 

The  best  of  those  who  Scripture  know 
Said  to  the  king,  '  My  lord,  I  go.' 
To  Rama's  house  Vasishtha  hied, 
The  hero's  fast  by  rule  to  guide, 
And  skilled  in  sacred  texts  to  tell 
Each  step  to  him  instructed  well. 
Straight  to  Prince  Rama's  high  abode, 
That  like  a  cloud  pale-tinted  showed, 
Borne  in  his  priestly  car  he  rode. 
Two  courts  he  passed,  and  in  the  third 
He  stayed  his  car.    Then  Rama  heard 
The  holy  sage  was  come,  and  flew 
To  honour  him  with  honour  due. 
He  hastened  to  the  car  and  lent 
His  hand  to  aid  the  priest's  descent. 
Then  spoke  Vasishtha  words  like  these, 
Pleased  with  his  reverent  courtesies, 
With  pleasant  things  his  heart  to  cheer 
Who  best  deserved  glad  news  to  hear : 
'  Prince,  thou  hast  won  thy  fathers  grace, 
And  thine  will  be  the  Regent's  place: 
Now  with  thy  Sita,  as  is  right, 
In  strictest  fasting  spend  the  night, 

-     l  Kausalya.  and  Sumitra. 


Canto  VI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


95 


For  when  the  morrow's  dawn  is  fair 
The  king  will  consecrate  his  heir: 
So  Nahush,1  as  the  wise  relate, 
Yayati  j<  yed  to  consecrate.' 

Thus  having  said,  Vasishtha  next 
Ordained  the  fast  by  rule  and  text, 
For  Kama  faithful  to  his  vows 
And  the  Videhan  dame  his  spouse. 
Then  from  the  prince's  house  he  hied 
With  courteous  honours  gratified. 
Bound  Rama  gathered  every  friend 
In  pleasant  talk  a  while  to  spend. 
He  bade  good  night  to  all  at  last, 
And  to  his  inner  chamber  passed. 
Then  Rama's  house  shone  bright  and  gay 
With  men  and  maids  in  glad  array, 
As  in  the  morning  some  fair  lake 
When  all  her  lotuses  awake, 
And  every  bird  that  loves  the  flood 
Flits  joyous  round  each  opening  bud. 

Forth  from  the  house  Vasishtha  drove, 
That  with  the  king's  in  splendour  strove, 
And  all  the  royal  street  he  viewed 
Filled  with  a  mighty  multitude 
Tiie  eager  concourse  blocked  each  square, 
Each  road  and  lane  and  thoroughfare, 
And  joyous  shouts  on  every  side 
Rose  like  the  roar  of  Ocean's  tide, 
As  streams  of  men  together  came 
With  loud  huzza  and  glad  acclaim. 
The  ways  were  watered,  swept  and  clean, 
And  decked  with  flowers  and  garlands  green 
And  all  Ayodhya  shone  arrayed 
With  banners  on  the  roofs  that  played. 
Men,  women,  boys  with  eager  eyes, 
Expecting  when  the  sun  should  rise, 
Stood  longing  for  the  herald  ray 
Of  Rama's  consecration-day, 
To  see,  a  source  of  joy  to  all, 
The  people-honoured  festival. 

The  priest  advancing  slowly  through 
The  mighty  crowd  he  cleft  in  two, 
Near  to  the  monarch's  palace  drew. 
He  sought  the  terrace,  by  the  stair, 
Like  a  white  cloud -peak  high  in  air, 
The  reverend  king  of  men  to  meet 
Who  sate  upon  his  splendid  seat: 
Thus  will  Vrihaspati  arise 
To  meet  the  monarch  of  the  skies. 
But  when  the  king  his  coming  knew, 
He  left  his  throne  and  near  him  drew. 
Questioned  by  him  Vasishtha  said 
That  all  his  task  was  duly  sped. 
Then  all  who  sate  there,  honouring 
Vasishtha,  rose  as  rose  the  king. 
Vasishtha  bade  his  lord  adieu, 
And  all  the  peers,  dismissed,  withdrew. 


1  A  king  of  the  Lunar  race,  and  father 
of  Yayati. 


Then  as  a  royal  lion  geeks 
His  cave  beneath  the  rocky  peaks, 
So  to  the  chambers  where  abode 
blis  consorts  Dasaratha  strode. 
Full-thronged    were    those    delightful 

bowers 

With  women  richly  dressed, 
And  splendid  as  the  radiant  towers 

Where  Indra  loves  to  rest. 
Then  brighter  flashed  a  thousand  eyes 

With  the  light  his  presence  lent, 
As,  when  the  moon  begins  to  rise, 
The  star  thronged  firmament, 

CANTO  VI. 


THE  CITY  PECORATED. 

Then  Rama  bathed  in  order  due, 
His  mind  from  worldly  thoughts  withdrew, 
And  with  his  large-eyed  wife  besought 
Narayan,  as  a  votary  ought. 
Upon  his  head  the  brimming  cup 
Of  holy  oil  he  lifted  up, 
Then  placed  within  the  kindled  fire 
The  offering  to  that  heavenly  Sire, 
And  as  he  sipped  the  remnant  prayed 
To  Him  for  blessing  and  for  aid. 
Then  with  still  lips  and  tranquil  mind 
With  his  Videhan  he  reclined, 
In  Vishnu's  chapel,  on  a  bed 
Where  holy  grass  was  duly  spread, 
While  still  the  prince's  every  thought 
The  God  supreme,  Narayan,  sought. 
One  watch  remained  the  night  to  close 
When  Rama  from  his  couch  arose, 
And  bade  the  men  and  maids  adorn 
His  palace  for  the  solemn  morn. 
He  heard  the  bards  and  heralds  raise 
Auspicious  strains  of  joy  and  praise  ; 
And  breathed  devout,  w  ith  voice  restrained, 
The  hymn  for  morning  rites  ordained  ; 
Then,  with  his  head  in  reverence  bowed, 
Praised  Madhu's  conquering  foe  aloud. 
And,  in  pure  linen  robes  arrayed, 
The  priests  to  raise  their  voices  prayed. 
Obedient  to  the  summons  they 
Proclaimed  to  all  the  festal  day. 
The  Brahmans'  voices,  deep  and  sweet, 
Resounded  through  the  crowded  street, 
And  echoed  through  Ayodhya  went 
By  many  a  loud-toned  instrument. 
Then  all  the  people  joyed  to  hear 
That  Kama  with  his  consort  dear 
Had  fasted  till  the  morning  light 
In  preparation  for  the  rite. 
Swiftly  the  joyful  tidings  through 
Ayodhya's  crowded  city  flew, 
And  soon  as  dawn  appeared,  each  man 
To  decorate  the  town  began, 


TUE  RAMAYAN. 


n. 


In  all  the  temples  bright  and  fair 
As  white  clouds  towering  in  the  air, 
In  streets,  and  where  the  cross- ways  met, 
Where  holy  fig-trees  had  been  set, 
In  open  square,  in  sacred  shade, 
Where  merchants'  shops  their  wealth  dis- 
played, 

On  all  the  mansions  of  the  great, 
And  householders  of  wealth  and  state, 
Where'er  the  people  loved  to  meet, 
Where'er  a  tree  adorned  the  street, 
Gay  banners  floated  to  the  wind, 
And  ribands  round  the  staves  were  twined. 
Then  clear  the  singers'  voices  rang, 
As,  charming  mind  and  ear,  they  sang. 
Here  players  shone  in  bright  attire, 
There  dancing  women  swelled  the  quire. 
Each  with  his  friend  had  much  to  say 
Of  Rama's  consecration-day ; 
Yea,  even  children,  as  they  played 
At  cottage  doors  beneath  the  shade. 
The  royal  street  with  flowers  was  strown 
Which  loving  hands  in  heaps  had  thrown, 
And  here  and  there  rich  incense  lent 
Its  f  ragrancejto  the  garland's  scent ; 
And  all  was  fresh  and  fair  and  bright 
In  honour  of  the  coming  rite. 
With  careful  foresight  to  illume 
With  borrowed  blaze  the  midnight  gloom, 
The  crowds  erected  here  and  there 
Trees  in  each  street  gay  lamps  to  bear. 
The  city  thus  from  side  to  side 
In  festal  guise  was  beautified. 
The  people  of  the  town  who  longed 
To  view  the  rite  together  thronged, 
And  filling  every  court  and  square 
Praised  the  good  king  in  converse  there : 
*  Our  high-souled  king  !  He  throws  a  grace 
On  old  Ikshvaku's  royal  race. 
He  feels  his  years'  increasing  weight, 
And  makes  his  son  associate. 
Great  joy  to  us  the  choice  will  bring 
Of  Rama  for  our  lord  and  king. 
The  good  and  bad  to  him  are  known, 
And  long  will  he  protect  his  own. 
No  pride  his  prudent  breast  may  swell, 
Most  just,  he  loves  his  brothers  well, 
And  to  us  all  that  love  extends, 
Cherished  as  brothers  and  as  friends. 
Long  may  our  lord  in  life  remain, 
Good  Dasaratha,  free  from  stain, 
By  whose  most  gracious  favour  we 
Kama  anointed  king  shall  see.' 

Such  were  the  words  the  townsmen  spoke 
Heard  by  the  gathering  countryfolk, 
Who  from  the  south,  north,  east,  and  west, 
Stirred  bv  the  joyful  tidings,  pressed. 
For  by  their  eager  longing  led 
To  Rama's  consecration  sped 
The  villagers  from  every  side, 
And  filled  Ayodhya;s  city  wide. 


This  way  and  that  way  strayed  the  crowd, 
While  rose  a  murmur  long  and  loud, 
As  when  the  full  moon  floods  the  skies 
And  Ocean's  waves  with  thunder  rise. 
That  town,  like  Indra's  city  fair, 

While  peasants  thronged  her  ways, 
Tumultuous  roared  like  Ocean,  where 
Each  flood-born  monster  plays, 

CANTO  VII. 
MANTHARAS    LAMENT. 

It  chanced  a  slave-born  handmaid,  bred 
With  Queen  Kaikey!,  fancy-led, 
Mounted  the  stair  and  stood  upon 
The  terrace  like  the  moon  that  shone. 
Thence  Manthara  at  ease  surveyed 
Ayodhya  to  her  eyes  displayed, 
Where  water  cooled  the  royal  street, 
Where  heaps  of  flowers  were  fresh  and 

sweet, 

And  costly  flags  and  pennons  hung 
On  roof  and  tower  their  shadow  flung  ; 
With  covered  ways  prepared  in  haste, 
And  many  an  awning  newly  placed  ; 
With  sandal-scented  streams  bedewed, 
Thronged  by  a  new  bathed  multitude  : 
Whose  streets  were  full  of  Brahman  bands 
With   wreaths   and  sweetmeats   in   their 

hands. 

Loud  instruments  their  music  raised, 
And  through  the  town,  where'er  she  gazed, 
The  doors  of  temples  glittered  white, 
And  the  maid  marvelled  at  the  sight. 

Of  Rama's  nurse  who,  standing  by, 
Gazed  with  a  joy-expanded  eye, 
In  robes  of  purest  white  attired, 
The  wondering  damsel  thus  inquired  : 

*  Does  Rama's  mother  give  away 
Rich  largess  to  the  crowds  to-day, 
On  some  dear  object  fondly  bent, 
Or  blest  with  measureless  content  ? 
What  mean  these  signs  of  rare  delight 
On  every  side  that  meet  my  sight  ? 
Say,  will  the  king  with  joy  elate 
Some  happy  triumph  celebrate  ?' 

The  nurse,  with  transport  uncontrolled, 
Her  glad  tale  to  the  hump-back  told  : 
*  Our  lord  the  king  to-morrow  morn 
Will  consecrate  his  eldest-born, 
And  raise,  in  Pushya's  favouring  hour, 
Prince  Rama  to  the  royal  power.' 
As  thus  the  nurse  her  tidings  spoke, 
Rage  in  the  hump-back's  breast  awoke. 
Down  from  the  terrace,  like  the  head 
Of  high  Kailasa's  hill,  she  sped. 
Sin  in  her  thoughts,  her  soul  aflame, 
Where  Queen  Kaikeyi  slept,  she  came  : 


Canto  VIII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


97 


'  Why  sleepest  thou  ?  *  she  cried,  *  arise, 
Peril  is  near,  unclose  thine  eyes. 
Ah,  heedless  Queen,  too  blind  to  know 
What  floods  of  sin  above  thee  flow  ! 
Thy  boasts  of  love  and  grace  are  o'er  : 
Thine  is  the  show  and  nothing  more. 
His  favour  is  an  empty  cheat, 
A  torrent  dried  by  summer's  heat.' 

Thus  by  the  artful  maid  addressed 
In  cruel  words  from  raging  breast, 
The  queen,  sore  troubled,  spoke  in  turn ; 
'  What  evil  news  have  I  to  learn  ? 
That  mournful  eye,  that  altered  cheek 
Of  sudden  woe  or  danger  speak.' 

Such  were  the  words  Kaikeyi  said  : 
Then  Manthara,  her  eyeballs  red 
With  fury,  skilled  with  treacherous  art 
To  grieve  yet  more  her  lady's  heart, 
From  Rama,  in  her  wicked  hate, 
Kaikeyi's  love  to  alienate, 
Upon  her  evil  purpose  bent 
Began  again  most  eloquent : 
'Peril  awaits  thee  swift  and  sure, 
And  utter  woe  defying  cure  ; 
KingDasaratha  will  create 
Prince  Rama  Heir  Associate. 
Plunged  in  the  depths  of  wild  despair, 
My  soul  a  prey  to  pain  and  care, 
As  though  the  flames  consumed  me,  zeal 
Has  brought  me  for  my  lady's  weal, 
Thy  grief,  my  Queen,  is  grief  to  me: 
Thy  gain  my  greatest  gain  would  be. 
Proud  daughter  of  a  princely  line, 
The  rights  of  consort  queen  are  thine. 
How  art  thou,  born  of  royal  race, 
Blind  to  the  crimes  that  'kings  debase  ? 
Thy  lord  is  gracious,  to  deceive, 
And  flatters,  but  thy  soul  to  grieve, 
While  thy  pure  heart  that  thinks  no  sin 
Knows  not  the  snares  that  hem  thee  in. 
Thy  husband's  lips  on  thee  bestow 
Soft  soothing  word,  an  empty  show  : 
The  wealth,  the  substance,  and  the  power 
This  day  will  be  Kausalya's  dower. 
With  crafty  soul  thy  child  he  sends 
To  dwell  among  thy  distant  friends, 
And,  every  rival  far  from  sight, 
To  Rama  gives  the  power  and  might. 
Ah  me  !  for  thou,  unhappy  dame, 
Deluded  by  a  husband's  name, 
With  more  than  mother's  love  hast  pressed 
A  serpent  to  thy  heedless  breast, 
And  cherished  him  who  works  thee  woe, 
No  husband  but  a  deadly  foe. 
For  like  a  snake,  unconscious  Queen, 
Or  enemy  who  stabs  unseen, 
King  Dasaratha  all  untrue 
Has  dealt  with  thee  and  Bharat  too. 
Ah,  simple  lady,  long  beguiled 
By  hia  soft  words  who  falsely  smiled ! 


Poor  victim  of  the  guileless  breast, 
A  happier  fate  thou  meritest. 
For  thee  and  thine  destruction  waits 
When  he  Prince  Rama  consecrates. 
Up.  lady,  while  there  yet  is  time  ; 
Preserve  thyself,  prevent  the  crime. 
Up,  from  thy  careless  ease,  and  free 
Thyself,  0  Queen,  thy  son,  and  me  !' 

Delighted  at  the  words  she  said, 
Kaikeyi  lifted  from  the  bed, 
Like  autumn's  moon,  her  radiant  head, 
And  joyous  at  the  tidings  gave 
A  jewel  to  the  hump -back  slave  ; 
And  as  she  gave  the  precious  toy 
Sue  cried  in  her  exceeding  joy  : 
'  Take  this,  dear  maiden,  for  thy  news 
Most  grateful  to  mine  ear,  and  choose 
What  grace  beside  most  fitly  may 
The  welcome  messenger  repay. 
I  joy  that  Rama  gains  the  throne  : 
Kausalya's  son  is  as  mine  own.' 


CANTO  VIII. 


MANTHARA'S  SPEECH. 

The  damsel's  breast  with  fury  burned  : 
She  answered,  as  the  gift  she  spurned  : 
'  What  time,  O  simple  Queen,  is  this 
For  idle  dreams  of  fancied  bliss? 
Hast  thou  not  sense  thy  state  to  know, 
Engulfed  in  seas  of  whelming  woe  ; 
Sick  as  I  am  with  grief  and  pain 
My  lips  can  scarce  a  laugh  restrain 
To  see  thee  hail  with  ill-timed  joy 
A  peril  mighty  to  destroy. 
I  mourn  for  one  so  fondly  blind  : 
What  woman  of  a  prudent  mind 
Would  welcome,  e'en  as  thou  hast  done, 
The  lordship  of  a  rival's  son, 
Rejoiced  to  find  her  secret  foe 
Empowered,  like    death,   to  launch  the 

blow  ; 

I  see  that  Rama  still  must  fear 
Thy  Bharat,  to  his  throne  too  near. 
Hence  is  my  heart  disquieted, 
For  those  who  fear  are  those  we  dread. 
Lakshman,  the  mighty  bow  who  draws. 
With  all  his  soul  serves  Rama's  cause  ; 
And  chains  as  strong  to  Bharat  bind 
£atrughna,  with  his  heart  and  mind, 
Now  next  to  Rama,  lady  fair, 
Thy  Bharat  is  the  lawful  heir  : 
And  far  remote,  I  ween,  the  chance 
That  might  the  younger  two  advance. 
Yes,  Queen,  'tis  Rama  that  I  dread, 
Wise,  prompt,  in  warlike  science  bredj 
And  oh,  I  tremble  when  I  think 
Of  thy  dear  child  on  rum's  brink. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  It. 


Blest  with  a  lofty  fate  is  she, 
Kausalya  ;  for  her  son  will  be 
Placed,  when  the  moon  and  Pushy  a  meet, 
By  Brahmans  on  the  royal  seat, 
Thou  as  a  slave  in  suppliant  guise 
Must  wait  upon  Kausalya's  eyes, 
With  all  her  wealth  and  bliss  secured 
And  glorious  from  her  foes  assured. 
Her  slave  with  us  who  serve  thee,  thoU 
Wilt  see  thy  son  to  Rama  bow, 
And  Sita's  friends  exult  o'er  all, 
While  Bharat's  wife  shares  Bharat's  fall.1 

As  thus  the  maid  in  wrath  complained, 
Kaikeyi  saw  her  heart  was  pained, 
And  answered  eager  in  defence 
Of  Kama's  worth  and  excellence  : 
*  Nay,  Rama,  born  the  monarch's  heir, 
By  holy  fathers  trained  with  care, 
Virtuous,  grateful,  pure,  and  true, 
Claims  royal  sway  as  rightly  due. 
He,  like  a  sire,  will  long  defend 
Each  brother,  minister,  and  friend. 
Then  why,  O  hump-back,  art  thou  pained 
To  hear  that  he  the  throne  has  gained  ? 
Be  sure  when  Rama's  empire  ends, 
The  kingdom  to  my  son  descends, 
Who,  when  a  hundred  years  are  flown, 
Shall  sit  upon  his  fathers'  throne. 
Why  is  thine  heart  thus  sad  to  see 
The  joy  that  is  and  long  shall  be, 
This  fortune  by  possession  sure 
And  hopes  which  we  may  count  secure? 
Dear  as  the  darling  son  I  bore 
Is  Rama,  yea,  or  even  more. 
Most  duteous  to  Kausalya,  he 
Is  yet  more  dutiful  to  me. 
What  though  he  rule,  we  need  not  fear  : 
His  brethren  to  his  soul  are  dear. 
And  if  the  throne  Prince  Rama  fill 
Bharat  will  share  the  empire  still.' 

She  ceased.  The  troubled  damsel  sighed 
Sighs  long  and  hot,  and  thus  replied  : 
'  What  madness  has  possessed  thy  mind,* 
To  warnings  deaf,  to  dangers  blind  ? 
Canst  thou  not  see  the  floods  of  woe 
That  threaten  o'er  thine  head  to  flow: 
First  Rama  will  the  throne  acquire, 
Then  Rama's  son  succeed  his  sire, 
While  Bharat  will  neglected  pine 
Excluded  from  the  royal  line. 
Not  all  his  sons,  O  lady  fair, 
The  kingdom  of  a  monarch  share: 
All  ruling  when  a  sovereign  dies 
Wild  tumult  in  the  state  would  rise. 
The  eldest,  be  he  good  or  ill, 
Is  ruler  by  the  father's  will. 
Know,  tender  mother,  that  thy  son 
Without  a  friend  and  all  undone, 
Far  from  the  joyous  ease  of  home 
An  alien  from  his  race  will  roam. 
I  aped  to  thee  for  whom  I  feel, 


But  thy  fond  heart  mistakes  my  zeal, 
Thy  hand  a  present  would  bestow 
Because  thy  rival  triumphs  so. 
When  Rama  once  begins  his  sway 
Without  a  foe  his  will  to  stay, 
Thy  darling  Bharat  he  will  drive 
To  distant  lands  if  left  alive. 
By  thee  the  child  was  sent  away 
Beneath  his  grandsire's  roof  to  stay, 
Even  in  stocks  and  stones  perforce 
Will  friendship  spring  from  intercourse. 
The  young  &atrughna  too  would  go 
With  Bharat,  for  he  loved  him  so. 
As  Lakshman  still  to  Rama  cleaves, 
He  his  dear  Bharat  never  leaves. 
There  is  an  ancient  tale  they  tell : 
A  tree  the  foresters  would  fell 
Was  saved  by  reeds  that  round  it  stood, 
For  love  that  sprang  of  neighbourhood. 
So  Lakshman  Rama  will  defend, 
And  each  on'each  for  aid  depend. 
Such  fame  on  earth  their  friendship  wins 
As  that  which  binds  the  Heavenly  Twins, 
And  Rama  ne'er  will  purpose  wrong 
To  Lakshman,  for  their  love  is  strong. 
But  Bharat,  Oh,  of  this  be  sure, 
Must  evil  at  his  hands  endure. 
Come,  Rama  from  his  home  expel 
An  exile  in  the  woods  to  dwell. 
The  plan,  O  Queen,  which  I  advise 
Secures  thy  weal  if  thou  be  wise. 
So  we  and  all  thy  kith  and  kin 
Advantage  from  thy  gain  shall  win. 
Shall  Bharat,  meet 'for  happier  fate, 
Born  to  endure  his  rival's  hate, 
With  all  his  fortune  ruined  cower 
And  dread  his  brother's  mightier  power  ? 
Up,  Queen,  to  save  thy  son,  arise  ; 
Prostrate  at  Rama's  feet  he  lies. 
So  the  proud  elephant  who  leads 
His  trooping  consorts  through  the  reeds 
Falls  in  the  forest  shade  beneath 
The  lion's  spring  and  murderous  teeth. 
Scorned  by  thee  in  thy  bliss  and  pride 
Kausalya  was  of  old  defied, 
And  will  she  now  forbear  to  show 
The  vengeful  rancour  of  a  foe  ? 
O  Queen,  thy  darling  is  undone 
When  Rama's  hand  has  once  begun 

Ayodhya's  realm  to  sway, 
Come,  win  the  kingdom  for  thy  child 
And  drive  the  alien  to  the  wild 
In  banishment  to-day.' 

CANTO  IX. 
THE  PLOT. 

As  fury  lit  Kaikeyi's  eyes 

She  spoke  with  long  and  burning  sighs  : 


to  IX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


99 


« This  day  my  son  enthroned  shall  see, 
And  Kama  to  the  woods  shall  tlee. 
But  tell  me,  damsel,  if  thou  can, 
A  certain  way,  a  skilful  plan 
That  Bharat  may  the  empire  gain, 
And  Rama's  hopes  be  nursed  in  vain.' 

The  lady  ceased.    The  wicked  maid 
The  mandate  of  her  queen  obeyed, 
And  darkly  plotting  Kama's  fall 
Responded  to  Kaikeyi's  call, 

'I  will  declare,  do  thou  attend, 
How  Bharat  may  his  throne  ascend. 
Dost  thou  forget  what  things  befell? 
Or  dost  thou  feign,  remembering  well  ? 
Or  wouldst  thou  hear  my  tongue  repeat 
A  story  for  thy  need  so  meet  ? 
Gay  lady,  it'  thy  will  be  so, 
JSIow  hear  the  tale  of  long  ago, 
And  when  my  tongue  has  done  its  part 
Ponder  the  story  in  thine  heart. 
When  Gods  and  demons  fought  of  old, 
Thy  lord,  with  royal  saints  enrolled, 
Sped  to  the  war  with  thee  to  bring 
Bis  might  to  aid  the  Immortals'  King. 
Far  to  the  southern  land  he  sped 
Where  Dandaks  mighty  wilds  are  spread, 
To  Vaijayanta's  city  swayed 
By  $ambara,  whose  flag  displayd 
The  hugest  monster  of  the  sea. 
Lord  of  a  hundred  wiles  was  he  ; 
With  might  which  Gods  could  never  blame 
Against  the  King  of  Heaven  he  came. 
Then  raged  the  battle  wild  and  dread, 
And  mortal  warriors  fought  and  bled  ; 
The  fiends  by  night  with  strength  renewed 
Charged,  slew  the  sleeping  multitude. 
Thy  lord,  King  Dasaratha,  long 
Stood  fighting  with  the  demon  throng, 
But  long  of  arm,  unmatched  in  strength, 
Fell  wounded  by  their  darts  at  length. 
Thy  husband,  senseless,  by  thine  aid 
Was  from  the  battle  field  conveyed, 
And  wounded  nigh  to  death  thy  lord 
Was  by  thy  care  to  health  restored. 
Well  pleased  the,  grateful  monarch  sware 
To  grant  thy  first  and  second  prayer. 
Thou  for  no  favour  then  wouldst  sue, 
The  gifts  reserved  for  season  due ; 
And  he,  thy  high-souled  lord,  agreed 
To  give  the  boons  when  thou  shouldst  need. 
Myself  1  knew  not  what  befell, 
But  oft  the  tale  have  heard  thee  tell, 
And  close  to  thee  in  friendship  knit 
Deep  in  my  heart  have  treasured  it. 
Remind  thy  husband  of  his  oath, 
Recall  the  boons  and  claim  them  both, 
That  Bharat  on  the  throne  be  placed 
With  rites  of  consecration  graced, 
And  Rama  to  the  woods  be  sent 
For  twice  seven  years  of  banishment. 


Go,  Queen,  the  mourner's  chamber1  seek, 
With  angry  eye  and  burning  cheek  ; 
And  with  disordered  robes  and  hair 
On  the  cold  earth  lie  prostrate  there. 
When  the  king  comes  still  mournful  lie, 
Speak  not  a  word  nor  meet  his  eye, 
But  let  thy  tears  in  torrent  flow, 
And  lie  enamoured  of  thy  woe. 
Well  do  I  know  thou  IODT  hast  been, 
And  ever  art,  his  darling  queen. 
For  thy  dear  sake,  O  well-loved  dame, 
The  mighty  king  would  brave  the  flame, 
But  ne'er  would  anger  thee,  or  brook 
To  meet  his  favourite's  wrathful  look. 
Thy  loving  lord  would  even  die 
Thy  fancy,  Queen,  to  gratify, 
And  never  could  he  arm  his  breast 
To  answer  nay  to  thy  request. 
Listen  and  learn,  O  dull  of  sense, 
Thine  all -resistless,  influence. 
Gems  he  will  offer,  pearls  and  gold  : 
Refuse  his  gifts,  be  stern  and  cold. 
Those  proffered  boons  at  length  recall, 
And  claim  them  till  he  grants  thee  all. 
And  O  my  lady,  high  in  bliss, 
With  heedful  thought  forget  not  this. 
When  from  the  ground  his  queen  he  lifts 
And  grants  again  the  promised  gifts, 
Bind  him  with  oaths  he  cannot  break 
And  thy  demands  unflnching,  make, 
That  Rama  travel  to  the  wild 
Five  years  and  nine  from  home  exiled, 
And  Bharat,  best  of  all  who  reign, 
The  empire  of  the  land  obtain. 
For  when  this  term  of  years  has  fled 
Over  the  banished  Rama's  head, 
Thy  royal  son  to  vigour  grown 
And  rooted  firm  will  stand  alone. 
The  king,  I  know,  is  well  inclined, 
And  this  the  hour  to  move  his  mind. 
Be  bold  :  the  threatened  rite  prevent, 
And  force  the  king  from  his  intent.' 

She  ceased.    So  counselled  to  her  bane 
Disguised  beneath  a  show  of  gain, 
Kaikeyi  in  her  joy  and  pride 
To  Manthara  again  replied  : 
*  Thy  sense  I  envy,  prudent  maid  ; 
With  sagest  lore  thy  lids  persuade. 
No  hump-back  maid  in  all  the  earth, 
For  wise  resolve,  can  match  thy  worth. 
Thou  art  alone  with  constant  zeal 
Devoted  to  thy  lady's  weal. 
Dear  girl,  without  thy  faithful  aid 
I  had  not  marked  the  plot  he  laid. 


1  Literally  the  chamber  of  wrath,  a 
' growler •?/,'  a  small,  dark,  unfurnished 
room  to  which  it  seems,  the  wives  and 
ladies  of  the  king  betook  themselves  when 
offended  and  sulky, 


100 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


Full  of  all  guile  and  sin  and  spite 
Misshapen  hump-backs  shock  the  sight  : 
But  thou  art  fair  and  formed  to  please, 
Bent  like  a  lily  by  the  breeze. 
I  look  thee  o'er  with  watchful  eye, 
And  in  thy  frame  no  fault  can  spy  ; 
The  chest  so  deep,  the  waist  so  trim, 
So  round  the  lines  of  breast  and  limb.1 
Thy  cheeks  with  moonlike  beauty  shine, 
And  the  warm  wealth  of  youth  is  thine. 
Thy  legs,  my  girl,  are  long  and  neat, 
And  somewhat  long  thy  dainty  feet, 
While  stepping  out  before  my  face 
Thou  seemest  like  a  crane  to  pace. 
The  thousand  wiles  are  in  thy  breast 
Which  £ambara  the  fiend  possessed, 
And  countless  others  all  thine  own, 
O  damsel  sage,  to  thee  are  known. 
Thy  very  hump  becomes  thee  too, 
O  thou  whose  face  is  fair  to  view, 
For  there  reside  in  endless  store 
Plots,  wizard  wiles,  and  warrior  lore. 
A  golden  chain  I'll  round  it  fling 
When  Rama's  flight  makes  Bharat  king  : 
Yea,  polished  links  of  finest  gold, 
When  once  the  wished  for  prize  I  hold 
With  naught  to  fear  and  none  to  hate, 
Thy  hump,  dear  maid,  shall  decorate. 
A  golden  frontlet  wrought  with  care, 
And  precious  jewels  shalt  thou  wear  : 
Two  lovely  robes  around  thee  fold, 
And  walk'a  Goddess  to  behold, 
Bidding  the  moon  himself  compare 
His  beauty  with  a  face  so  fair. 
With  scent  of  precious  sandal  sweet 
Down  to  the  nails  upon  thy  feet, 
First  of  the  household  thou  shalt  go 
And  pay  with  scorn  each  baffled  foe.' 

Kaikeyi's  praise  the  damsel  heard, 
And  thus  again  her  lady  stirred, 
Who  lay  upon  her  beauteous  bed 
Like  fire  upon  the  altar  fed  : 
'  Dear  Queen,  they  build  the  bridge  in  vain 
When  swollen  streams  are  dry  again. 
Arise,  thy  glorious  task  complete, 
And  draw  the  king  to  thy  retreat.' 

The  large-eyed  lady  left  her  bower 
Exulting  in  her  pride  of  power, 
And  with  the  hump- back  sought  the  gloom 
And  silence  of  the  mourner's  room. 
The  string  of  priceless  pearls  that  hung 
Around  her  neck  to  earth  she  flung, 
With  all  the  wealth  and  lustre  lent 
By  precious  gem  and  ornament, 
Then,  listening  to  her  slave's  advice, 
Lay,  like  a  nymph  from  Paradise. 


1  In  these  four  lines  I  do  not  translate 
faithfully,  and  I  do  not  venture  to  follow 
Kaikeyi  farther  in  her  eulogy  of  the  hump- 
back's charms, 


As  on  the  ground  her  limbs  she  laid 

Once  more  she  cried  unto  the  maid  : 

'  Soon  must  thou  to  the  monarch  say 

Kaikeyi's  soul  has  past  away, 

Or,  Rama  banished  as  we  planned, 

My  son  made  king  shall  rule  the  land, 

No  more  for  gold  and  gems  I  care, 

For  brave  attire  or  dainty  fare. 

If  Rama  should  the  throne  ascend, 

That  very  hour  my  life  will  end.' 

The  royal  lady  wounded  through 
The  bosom  with  the  darts  that  flew 

Launched  from  the  hump-back's  tongue 
Pressed  both  her  hands  upon  her  side, 
And  o'er  and  o'er  again  she  cried 

With  wildering  fury  stung  : 
'  Yes,  it  shall  be  thy  task  to  tell 
That  I  have  hurried  hence  to  dwell 

In  Yama's  realms  of  woe, 
Or  happy  Bharat  shall  be  king, 
And  doomed  to  years  of  wandering 

Kausalya's  son  shall  go. 
I  heed  not  dainty  viands  now 
Fair  wreaths  of  flowers  to  twine  my  brow, 

!Soft  balm  or  precious  scent : 
My  very  life  1  count  as  naught, 
Nothing  on  earth  can  claim  my  thought 

But  Rama's  banishment.' 

She  spoke  these  words  of  cruel  ire  ; 
Then  stripping  off  her  gay  attire, 

The  cold  bare  floor  she  pressed. 
So,  falling  from  her  home  on  high, 
Some  lovely  daughter  of  the  sky 

Upon  the  ground  might  rest. 
With  darkened  brow  and  furious  mien, 
Stripped  of  her  gems  and  wreath,  the  queen 

In  spotless  beauty  lay, 
Like  heaven  obscured  with  gatheringcloud, 
When  shades  of  midnight  darkness  shroud 

Each  star's  expiring  ray. 

CANTO  X. 


DAgARATHA'S   SPEECH. 

As  Queen  Kaikeyi  thus  obeyed 
The  sinful  counsel  of  her  maid 
She  sank  upon  the  chamber  floor, 
As  sinks  in  anguish,  wounded  sore, 
An  elephant  beneath  the  smart 
Of  the  wild  hunter's  venomed  dart. 
The  lovely  lady  in  her  mind 
Revolved  the  plot  her  maid  designed, 
And  prompt  the  gain  and  risk  to  scan 
She  step  by  step  approved  the  plan. 
Misguided  by  the  hump -back's  guile 
She  pondered  her  resolve  awhile, 
As  the  fair  path  that  bliss  secured 
The  miserable  lady  lured, 


Canto  X. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


101 


Devoted  to  her  queen,  and  swayed 

By  hopes  of  gain  and  bliss,  the  maid 

Rejoiced  her  lady's  purpose  known, 

And  deemed  the  prize  she  sought  her  own. 

Then  bent  upon  her  purpose  dire, 

Kaikeyi  with  her  soul  on  fire, 

Upon  the  floor  lay,  languid,  down, 

Her  brows  contracted  in  a  frown. 

The  bright-hued  wreath  that  bound  her 

hair, 

Chains,  necklets,  jewels  rich  and  rare, 
Stripped  oif  by  her  own  ringers  lay 
Spread  on  the  ground  in  disarray, 
And  to  the  floor  a  lustre  lent 
As  stars  light  up  the  firmament. 
Thus  prostrate  in  the  mourner's  cell, 
In  gerb  of  woe  the  lady  fell, 
Her  long  hair  in  a  single  braid, 
Like  some  fair  nymph  of  heaven  dismayed.1 

The  monarch,  Rama  to  install, 
With  thoughtful  care  had  ordered  all, 
And  now  within  his  home  withdrew, 
Dismissing  first  his  retinue. 
Now  all  the  town  has  heard,  thought  he, 
What  joyful  rite  the  morn  will  see, 
80  turned  he  to  her  bower  to  cheer 
With  the  glad  news  his  darling's  ear. 
Majestic,  as  the  Lord  of  Night, 
When  threatened  by  the  Dragon's  might, 
Bursts  radiant  on  the  evening  sky 
Pale  with  the  clouds  that  wander  by, 
So  Dasaratha,  great  in  fame, 
To  Queen  Kaikeyi's  palace  came. 
There  parrots  flew  from  tree  to  tree, 
And  gorgeous  peacocks  wandered  free, 
While  ever  and  anon  was  heard 
The  note  of  some  glad  water-bird. 
Here  loitered  dwarf  and  hump-backed  maid, 
There  lute  and  lyre  sweet  music  played. 
Here,  rich  in  blossom,  creepers  twined 
O'er  grots  with  wondrous  art  designed, 
There  Champac  and  Asoka  flowers 
Hung  glorious  o'er  the  summer  bowers, 
And  mid  the  waving  verdure  rose 
Gold,  silver,  ivory  porticoes, 
Through  all  the  months  in  ceaseless  store 
The  trees  both  fruit  and  blossom  bore. 
With  many  a  lake  the  grounds  were  graced; 
Seats  gold  and  silver,  here  were  placed  ; 
Here  every  viand  wooed  the  taste. 
It  was  a  garden  meet  to  vie 
E'en  with  the  home  of  Gods  on  high. 


1  These  verses  are  evidently  an  inter- 
polation. They  contain  nothing  that  has 
not  been  already  related :  the  words  only 
are  altered.  As  the  whole  poem  could  not 
be  recited  at  once,  the  rhapsodists  at  the 
beginning  of  a  fresh  recitation  would  na- 
turally remind  their  hearers  of  the  events 
immediately  preceding. 


Within  the  mansion  rick  qcd  J0st 
The  mighty  D,a$avathft  paLseii : 
Not  there  wa.s  His  beloved  queen' 
On  her  fair  couch  reclining  seen. 
With  love  his  eager  pulses  beat 
For  the  dear  wife  he  came  to  meet, 
And  in  his  blissful  hopes  deceived, 
He  sought  his  absent  love  and  grieved. 
For  never  had  she  missed  the  hour 
Of  meeting  in  her  sumptuous  bower, 
And  never  had  the  king  of  men 
Entered  the  empty  room  till  then. 
Still  urged  by  love  and  anxious  thought 
News  of  his  favourite  queen  he  sought, 
For  never  had  his  loving  eyes 
Found  her  or  selfish  or  unwise. 
Then  spoke  at  length  the  warder  maid, 
With  hands  upraised  and  sore  afraid  : 
'  My  Lord  and  King,  the  queen  has  sought 
The  mourner's  cell  with  rage  distraught.' 

The  words  the  warder  maiden  said 
He  heard  with  soul  disquieted, 
And  thus  as  fiercer-grief  assailed, 
His  troubled  senses  wellnigh  failed. 
Consumed  by  torturing  fires  of  grief 
The  king,  the  world's  imperial  chief, 
His  lady  lying  on  the  ground 
In  most  un queenly  posture,  found. 
The  aged  king,  all  pure  within, 
Saw  the  young  queen  resolved  on  sin, 
Low  on  the  ground,  his  own  sweet  wife, 
To  him  far  dearer  than  his  life, 
Like  some  fair  creeping  plant  uptorn 
Or  like  a  maid  of  heaven  forlorn, 
A  nymph  of  air  or  Goddess  sent 
From  Swarga  down  in  banishment. 

As  some  wild  elephant  who  tries 
To  soothe  his  consort  as  she  lies 
Struck  by  the  hunters  venomed  dart 
fco  the  great  king,  disturbed  in  heart 
Strove  with  soft  hand  and  fond  caress 
To  soothe  his  darling  queen's  distress 
And  in  his  love  addressed  with  sighs  ' 
The  lady  of  the  lotus  eyes: 
'  I  know  not,  Queen,  why  thou  shouldst  be 
Thus  angered  to  the  heart  with  me. 
Say,  who  has  slighted  thee,  or  whence 
Has  come  the  cause  of  such  offence 
That  in  the  dust  thou  liest  low, 
And  rendest  my  fond  heart  with  woe, 
As  if  some  goblin  of  the  night 
Had  struck  thee  with  a  deadly  blight, 
And  cast  f  >ul  influence  on  her 
Whose  spells  my  loving  bosom  stir? 
I  have  Physicians  famed  for  skill, 
Each  trained  to  cure  some  special  ill  : 
My  sweetest  lady,  tell  thy  pain, 
And  they  shall  make  thee  well  again. 
Whom,  darling,  wouldstthou  punfshed  see? 
Or  whom  enriched  with  lordly  fee  ? 


102 


THE  RAMA  TAN. 


Boole  II. 


WaepzcdJ,  my  Jevsl?  Queen,  and  stay 

Thisjgyief?  that»*ea'rs  thyJrame  away. 

Speak, 'and  the  guihy  Shall  ?3e^freed. 

The  guiltless  be  condemned  to  bleed, 

The  poor  enriched,  the  rich  abased. 

The  low  set  high,  the  proud  disgraced. 

My  lords  and  I  thy  will  obey, 

All  slaves  who  own  thy  sovereign  sway  ; 

And  I  can  ne'er  my  heart  incline 

To  check  in  aught  one  wish  of  thine. 

Now  by  rny  life  I  pray  thee  tell 

Q.  he  thoughts  that  in  thy  bosom  dwell. 

The  power  and  might  thou  knowest  well 

Should  from  thy  breast  all  doubt  expel. 

I  swear  by  all  my  merit  won, 

Speak,  arid  thy  pleasure  shall  be  done. 

Far  as  the  world's  wide  bounds  extend 

My  glorious  empire  knows  no  end. 

Mine  are  the  tribes  in  eastern  lands, 

And  those  who  dwell  on  Sindhu's  sands  : 

Mine  is  Surashtra,  far  away, 

Suvira's  realm  admits  rny  sway. 

My  best  the  southern  nations  fear, 

The  Angas  and  the  Vangas  hear. 

And  as  lord  paramount  I  reign 

O'er  Magadh  and  the  Matsyas'  plain, 

Kosal,  and  Kasi's  wide  domain  :] 

All  rich  in  treasures  of  the  mine, 

In  golden  corn,  sheep,  goats,  and  kine. 

Choose  what  thou  wilt,  Kaikeyi,  thence  : 

But  tell  me,  O  my  darling,  whence 

Arose  thy  grief,  and  it  shall  fly 

Like  hoar-frost  when  the  sun  is  high.' 

She,  by  his  loving  words  consoled, 
Longed  her  dire  purpose  to  unfold, 
And  sought  with  sharper  pangs  to  wring 
The  bosom  of  her  lord  the  king. 

CANTO  XL 
THE  QUEEN'S  DEMAND. 

To  him  enthralled  by  love,  and  blind, 

Pierced  by  his  darts  who  shakes  the  mind,2 

'Kaikeyi  with  remorseless  breast 

Her  cruel  purpose  thus  expressed : 

'  O  King,  no  insult  or  neglect 

Have  I  endured,  or  disrespect. 

One  wish  I  have,  and  fain  would  see 

That  long-ing  granted,  lord,  by  thee. 

Now  pledge  thy  word  if  thou  incline 


1  The  Slnka  or  distich    which  I   have 
been   forced   to  expand  into   these   nine 
lines  is  evidently  spurious,  but  is  found  in 
all  the  commented  MSS.  which  Schlegel 
consulted. 

2  Manmatha,  Mind-disturber,  a  name  of 
Kama  or  Love. 


To  listen  to  this  prayer  of  mine, 
Then  I  with  confidence  will  speak, 
And  thou  shalt  hear  the  boon  I  seek.' 

Ere  she  had  ceased,  the  monarch  fell 
A  victim  to  the  lady's  spell, 
And  to  the  deadly  snare  she  set 
Sprang,  like  a  roebuck  to  the  net. 
Her  lover  raised  her  drooping  head, 
Smiled,  playing  with  her  hair,  and  said  : 
Hast  thou  not  learnt,  wild  dame,  till  now 
That  there  is  none  so  dear  as  thou 
To  me  thy  loving  husband,  save 
My  Rama  bravest  of  the  brave  t 
By  him  my  race's  high-souled  heir, 
By  him  whom  none  can  mateh,  I  swear, 
Now  speak  the  wish  that  on  thee  weighs  : 
By  him  whose  right  is  length  of  days, 
Whom  if  my  fond  paternal  eye    • 
Saw  not  one  hour  I  needs  must  die,— 
I  swear  by  Raina!my*dear  son, 
Speak,  and  thy  bidding  shall  be  done. 
Speak,  darling  ;  if  thou  choose,  request 
To  have  the  heart  from  out  my  breast  ; 
Regard  my  words,  sweet  love,  and  name 
The  wish  thy  mind  thinks  fit  to  frame. 
Nor  let  thy  soul  give  way  to  doubt : 
My  power  should  drive  suspicion  out. 
Yea,  by  my  merits  won  I  swear, 
Speak,  darling,  I  will  grant  thy  prayer.' 

The  queen,  ambitious,  overjoyed 
To  see  him  by  her  plot  decoyed, 
More  eager  still  her  aims  to  reach, 
Spoke  her  abominable  speech  : 
'  A  boon  thou  grantest,  nothing  loth, 
And  swearest  with  repeated  oath. 
Now  let  the  thirty  Gods  and  three 
My  witnesses,  with  Indra,  be. 
Let  sun  arid  moon  and  planets  hear, 
Heaven,  quarters,  day  and  night,  give  ear. 
The  mighty  world,  the  earth  outspread, 
With  bards  of  heaven  and  demons  dread; 
The  ghosts  that  walk  in  midnight  shade, 
And  household  Gods,  our  present  aid, 
And  every  being  great  and  small 
To  hear  and  mark  the  oath  I  call.' 

When  thus  the  archer  king  was  bound 
With  treacherous  arts  and  oaths  enwound, 
She  to  her  bounteous  lord  subdued 
By  blinding  love,  her  speech  renewed  : 
'  Remember,  King,  that  long-past  day 
Of  Gods'  and  demons'  battle  fray, 
And  how  thy  foe  in  doubtful  strife 
Had  nigh  bereft  thee  of  thy  life. 
Remember,  it  was  only  I 
Preserved  thee  when  about  to  die, 
And  thou  for  watchful  love  and  care 
Wouldst  grant  my  first  and  second  prayer. 
Those  offered  boons,pl  edged  with  thee  then, 
I  now  demand,  O  King  of  men, 


Canto 


THE  RAMA7AN. 


103 


Of  thee,  O  Monarch,  good  and  just, 
Whose  righteous  soul  observes  each  trust. 
If  thou  refuse  thy  promise  sworn, 
I  die,  despised,  before  the  m  >rn. 
Tnese  rites  in  R4rna's  name  begun — 
Transfer  them,  and  enthrone  my  son. 
Tue  time  is  come  to  claim  at  last 
That  double  boon  of  days  long-past, 
When  Gods  and  dem  >ns  mst  in  tight, 
And  thou  wouldst  fain  my  care  requite. 
Now  forth  to  Dandak's  forest  drive 
Thy  Rama  for  niiie  years  and  five, 
And  let  him  dwell  a  hermit  there 
With  deerskin  coat  and  matted  hair. 
Without  a  rival  let  mv  boy 
The  empire  of  the  land  enjoy, 
And  let  mine  eyes  ere  morning  see 
Thy  Rum  a  to  the  forest  flee.' 


CANTO  XII. 


DAgARATHA'S  LAMENT. 

The  monarch,  as  Kaikeyi  pressed 
With  cruel  words  her  dire  request, 
Stood  for  a  time  absorbed  in  thought 
While  anguish  in  his  bosom  wrought. 
'  Does  some  wild  dream  mv  heart  assail  ? 
Or  do  my  troubled  senses  fail  ? 
Does  some  dire  portent  scare  rnv  view? 
Or  frenzy's  stroke  my  soul  subdue  ? ' 
Thus  as  he  thought,  his  troubled  mind 
In  doubt  and  dread  no  rest  could  find, 
Distressed  and  trembling  like  a  deer 
Who  sees  the  dreaded  tigress  near. 
On  the  bare  ground  his  limbs  he  threw, 
And  many  a  long  deep  sigh  he  drew, 
Like  a  wild  snake,  with  fury  blind, 
By  charms  within  a  ring  confined. 
Once  as  the  monarch's  fury  woke, 
'  Shame  on  thee ! '  from  his  bosom  broke, 
And  then  in  sense -bewildering  pain 
He  fainted  on  the  ground  again. 
At  length,  when  slowly  strength  returned 
He  answered  as  his  eyeballs  burned 
With  the  wild  fury  of  his  ire 
Consuming  her,  as  'twere,  with  fire  : 
'  Fell  traitress,  thou  whose  thoughts  design 
The  utter  ruin  of  my  line, 
What  wrong  have  I  or  Rama  done  ? 
Speak  murderess,  speak  thou  wicked  one, 
Seeks  he  not  evermore  to  please 
Thee  with  all  sonlike  courtesies? 
By  what  persuasion  art  thou  led 
To  bring  this  ruin  on  his  head? 
Ah  me,  that  fondly  unaware 
I  brought  thee  home  my  life  to  snare, 
Called  daughter  of  a  king,  in  truth 
A  serpent  with  a  venomed  tooth  ! 
8 


What  fault  can  I  preteni  to  find 
u  Rlma  praised  by  all  mankind, 
That  I  my  darling  sh  mid  forsake  ? 
$o,  take  my  life,  my  glory  take  : 
L.et  either  queen  be  from  me  torn, 
But  nob  mv  well-loved  eldest-born. 
Elim  but  to  see  is  highest  bliss, 
And  death  itself  his  face  to  miss. 
The  world  may  sunless  stand,  the  grain 
May  thrive  without  the  genial  rain, 
B=it  if  my  R  ima  be  not  nigh 
My  spirit  from  its  frame  will  fly. 
E  10 ugh,  thine  impious  plan  forgo, 
O  thou  who  plottesb  sin  and  woe. 
My  head  before  thy  feet,  I  kneel, 
And  prav  thee  some  compassion  feel, 
O  wicked  dame,  what  can  have  led 
Thy  heart  to  dare  a  plot  so  dread  ? 
Perchance  thy  purpose  is  to  sound 
The  grace  thy  son  with  me  has  found  ; 
Perchance  the  words  that,  all  these  days, 
Thou  still  hast  said  in  Rama's  praise, 
Were  only  feigned,  designed  to  cheer 
With  flatteries  a  father's  ear. 
Soon  as  thy  grief,  my  Queen,  I  knew, 
My  bosom  felt  the  anguish  too. 
In  empty  halls  art  thou  possessed, 
And  subject  to  anothers'  hest  ? 
Now  on  Ikshvaku's  ancient  race 
Falls  foul  disorder  and  disgrace, 
If  thou,  O  Queen,  whose  heart  so  long 
Has  loved  the  good  should  choose  the  wrong 
Not  once,  O  large- eyed  dame,  hast  thou 
Been  guilty  of  offence  till  now, 
Nor  said  a  word  to  make  me  grieve, 
Nor  will  I  now  thy  sin  believe. 
With  thee  my  Rama  used  to  hold 
Like  place  with  Bharat  lofty-souled. 
As  thou  so  often,  when  the  pair 
Were  children  yet,  wouldst  fain  declare. 
And  can  thy  righteous  soul  endure 
That  Rama  glorious,  pious,  pure, 
Should  to  the  distant  wilds  be  sent 
For  fourteen  years  of  banishment  f 
Yea,  Rama  Bharat's  self  exceeds 
In  love  to  thee  and  sonlike  deeds, 
And,  for  deserving  love  of  thee, 
As  Bharat,  even  so  is  he. 
Who  better  than  that  chieftain  may 
Obedience,  love,  and  honour  pay, 
Thy  dignity  with  care  protect, 
Thy  slightest  word  and  wish  respect  ? 
Of  all  his  countless  followers  none 
Can  breathe  a  word  against  my  son  ; 
Of  many  thousands  not  a  dame 
Can  hint  reproach  or  whisper  blame. 
All  creatures  feel  the  sweet  control 
Of  llama's  pure  and  gentle  soul. 
The  pride  of  Manu's  race  he  binds 
To  him  the  people's  grateful  minds. 
He  wins  the  subjects  with  his  truth, 


104 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


The  poor  with  gifts  and  gentle  ruth, 
His  teachers  with  his  docile  will, 
The  foemen  with  his  archer  skill. 
Truth,  purity,  religious  zeal, 
The  hand  to  give,  the  heart  to  feel, 
The  love  that  ne'er  betrays  a  friend, 
The  rectitude  that  naught  can  bend, 
Knowledge,  and  meek  obedience  grace 
My<  Kama  pride  of  Raghu's  race. 
Canst  thou  thine  impious  plot  design 
'Gainst  him  in  whom  these  virtues  shine, 
Whose  glory  with  the  sages  vies, 
Peer  of  the  Gods  who  rale  the  skies  ? 
From  him  no  harsh  or  bitter  word 
To  pain  one  creature  have  I  heard, 
And  how  can  I  my  son  address, 
For  thee,  with  words  of  bitterness  ? 
Have  mercy,  Queen:  some  pity  show 
To  see  my  tears  of  anguish  flow, 
And  listen  to  my  mournful  cry, 
A, poor  old  man  who  soon  must  die. 
Whate'er  this  sea-girt  land  can  boast 
Of  rich  and  rare  from  coast  to  coa^t, 
To  thee,  my  Queen,  I  give  it  all : 
But  O,  thy  deadly  words  recall : 
O  see,  my  suppliant  hands  entreat, 
Again  my  lips  are  on  thy  feet : 
Save  Rama,  save  my  darling  child, 
Nor  kill  me  with  this  sin  defiled.' 
He  grovelled  on  the  ground,  and  lay 
To  burning  grief  a  senseless  prey, 
And  ever  and  anon,  assailed 
By  floods  of  woe  he  wept  and  wailed, 
Striving  with  eager  speed  to  gain 
The  margent  of  his  sea  of  pain. 

With  fiercer  words  she  fiercer  yet 
The  hapless  father's  pleading  met: 
'  O  Monarch,  if  thy  soul  repent 
The  promise  and  thy  free  consent, 
H0w  wilt  thou  in  the  world  maintain 
Thy  fame  for  truth  unsmirched  with  stain  ? 
When  gathered  kings  with  thee  converse, 
And  bid  thee  all  the  tale  relrearse, 
What  wilt  thou  say,  O  truthful  King, 
In  answer  to  their  questioning? 
'  She  to  whose  love  my  life  I  owe, 
Who  saved  me  smitten  by  the  foe, 
Kaikeyi,  for  her  tender  care, 
Was  cheated  of  the  oath  I  sware.' 
Thus  wilt  thcu  answer,  and  forsworn 
Wilt  draw  on  thee  the  princes'  scorn. 
Learn  from  that  tale,  the  Hawk  and  Dove,' 
How  strong  for  truth  was  Saivya's  love. 
Pledged  by  his  word  the  monarch  gave 
His  flesh  the  suppliant  bird  to  save. 
So  King  Alarka  gave  his  eyes, 
And  gained  a  mansion  in  the  skies. 


i  This  story  is  told  in  the  Mahabharat. 
A  free  version  of  it  may  be  f o.und  in  Scenes 
frvm  -the  ^dm dyan,<  etc.  »  - 


The  Sea  himself  his  promise  keeps, 
And  ne'er  beyond  his  limit  sweeps. 
My  deeds  of  old  again  recall, 
Nor  let  thy  bond  dishonoured  fall. 
The  rights  of  truth  thou  wouldst  forget, 
Thy  Rama  on  the  throne  to  set, 
And  let  thy  days  in  pleasure  glide, 
Fond  King,  Kausalya  by  thy  side. 
Now  call  it  by  what  name  thou  wilt, 
Justice,  injustice,  virtue,  guilt, 
Thy  word  and  oath  remain  the  same. 
Ami  thou  must  yield  what  thus  I  claim. 
If  Rama  be  anointed,  I 
This  very  day  will  surely  die, 
Before  thy  face  will  poison  drink, 
And  lifeless  at  thy  feet  will  sink. 
Yea,  better  far  to  die  than  stay . 
Alive  to  see  one  single  day 
The  crowds  before  Kausalya  stand 
And  hail  her  queen  with  reverent  hand. 
Now  by  my  son.  myself,  I  swear, 
No  gift,  no  promise  whatsoe'er 
My  steadfast  soul  shall  now  content, 
But  only  llama's  banishment.' 

So  far  she  spake  by  rage  impelled, 
And  then  the  queen  deep  silence  held. 
He  heard  her  speech  full  fraught  with  ill, 
But  spoke  no  word  bewildered  still, 
Gazed,  on  his  love  once  held  so  dear 
Who  spoke  unlovely  rede  to  hear  ; 
Then  as  he  slowly  pondered  o'er 
The  queen's  resolve  and  oath  she  swore, 
Once  sighing  forth.  Ah  Rama !  he 
Fell  prone  as  falls  a  smitten  tree. 
His  senses  lost  like  one  insane, 
Faint  as  a  sick  man  weak  with  pain, 
Or  like  a  wounded  snake  dismayed, 
So  lay  the  king  whom  earth  obeyed. 
Long  burning  sighs  he  slowly  heaved, 
As,  conquered  by  his  woe,  he  grieved, 
And  thus  with  tears  and  sobs  between 
His  sad  faint  words  addressed  the  queen: 

'  By  whom,  Kaikeyi,  wast  thou  taught 
This  flattering  hope  with  ruin  fraught? 
Have  goblins  seized  thy  soul,  O  dame, 
Who  thus  canst  speak  and  feel  no  shame? 
Thy  mind  with  sin  is  sicklied  o'er, 
From  thy  first  youth  ne'er  seen  before. 
A  go<  d  and  loving  wife  wast  thou, 
But  all,  alas  !  is  altered  now. 
What  terror  can  have  seized  thy  breast 
To  make  thee  frame  this  dire  request, 
That  Bharat  o'er  the  land  may  reign, 
And  Rama  in  the  \\  ocds  remain  ? 
Turn  from  thine  evil  ways,  O  turn, 
And  thy  perfidious  counsel  spurn, 
If  thou  would  fain  a  favour  do 
To  people,  lord,  and  Bharat  too. 
O  wicked  traitress,  fierce  and  vile,     . 
Who  lovest.  deeds  of  sin  and  guile, 


Canto 


THE  RAM  A?  AN. 


105 


What  crime  or  grievance  dost  thou  see, 

What  fault  in  Rama  or  in  me  ? 

Thy  son  will  ne'er  the  throne  accept 

If  Rama  from  his  rights  be  kept, 

For  Bharat's  heart  more  lirmly  yet 

Than  Rama's  is  on  justice  set. 

How  shall  I  say,  Go  forth,  and  brook 

Upon  my  Rama's  face  to  look, 

See  his  pale  cheek  and  ashy  lips 

Dimmed  like  the  moon  in  sad  eclipse  ? 

How  see  the  plan  so  well  prepared 

When  prudent  friends  my  counsels  shared, 

All  ruined,  like  a  host  la'id  low 

Beneath  some  foeman's  murderous  blow 

What  will  these  gathered  princes  say, 

From  regions  near  and  far  away  1 

'  O'eiiong  endures  the  monarch's  reign, 

For  now  he  is  a  child  again.' 

When  many  a  good  and  holy  sage 

In  Scripture  versed,  revered  for  age, 

Shall  ask  for  Rama,  what  shall  I 

TFnhappy,  what  shall  I  reply  ? 

'  By  Queen  Kaikeyi  long  distressed 

I  drove  him  forth  and  dispossessed.' 

Although  herein  the  truth  I  speak, 

They  all  will  hold  me  false  and  weak. 

What  will  Kausalya  say  when  she 

Demands  htr  son  exiled  by  me  ? 

Alas  !  what  answer  shall  I  frame, 

Or  how  console  the  injured  dame? 

She  like  a  slave  on  me  attends, 

And  with  a  sister's  care  she  blends 

A  mother's  love,  a  wife's,  a  friend's. 

In  spite  of  all  her  tender  care, 

Her  noble  son,  her  face  most  fair, 

Another  queen  I  could  prefer 

And  for  thy  sake  neglected  her, 

But  now,  O  Queen,  my  heart  is  grieved 

For  love  and  care  by  thee  received, 

E'en  as  the  sickening  wretch  repents 

His  dainty  meal  and  condiments. 

And  how  will  Queen  Sumitra  trust 

The  husband  whom  she  rinds  unjust, 

Seeing  my  Rama  driven  hence 

Dishonoured,  and  for  no  offence  ? 

Ah  !  the  Videhan  bride  will  hear 

A  double  woe,  a  double  fear, 

Two  whelming  sorrows  at  one  breath, 

Her  lord's  disgrace,  his  father's  death. 

Mine  aged  bosom  she  will  wring 

And  kill  me  with  her  sorrowing, 

Sad  as  a  fair  nymph  left  to  weep 

Deserted  on  Himalaya's  steep. 

For  short  will  be  my  days,  I  ween, 

When  I  with  mournful  eyes  have  seen 

My  Rama  wandering  forth  alone 

And  heard  dear  Sita  sob  and  moan. 

Ah  me  !  my  fond  belief  I  rue. 

Vile  traitress,  loved  as  good  and  true, 

As  one  who  in  his  thirst  has  quaffed, 

Deceived  by  looks,  a  deadly  draught, 


Ah  !  thou  hast  slain  me,  murderess,  while 
Soothing  my  soul  with  wcrds  of  guile, 
As  the  wild  hunter  kills  the  deer 
Lured  from  the  brake  his  song  to  hear. 
Soon  every  honest  tongue  will  fling 
Reproach  on  the  dishonest  king; 
The  people's  scorn  in  every  street 
The  seller  of  his  child  will  meet, 
And  such  dishonour  will  be  mine 
As  whelms  a  Brahman  drunk  with  wine, 
Ah  me,  for  my  unhappy  fate, 
Compelled  thy  words  to  tolerate  ! 
Such  woe  is  sent  to  scourge  a  crime 
Committed  in  some  distant  time. 
For  many  a  day  with  sinful  care 
I  cherished  thee,  thou  sin  and  snare, 
Kept  thee,  unwitting,  like  a  cord 
Destined  to  bind  its  hapless  lord. 
Mine  hours  of  ease  I  spent  with  thee, 
Nor  deemed  my  love  my  death  would  be. 
While  like  a  heedless  child  I  played, 
On  a  black  snake  my  hand  I  laid. 
A  cry  from  every  mouth  will  burst 
And  all  the  world  will  hold  me  curst, 
Because  I  saw  my  high-souled  son 
Unkinged,  unfathered,  and  undone  : 

*  The  king  by  power  of  love  beguiled 
Is  weaker  than  a  foolish  child, 

His  own  beloved  son  to  make 
An  exile  for  a  woman's  sake. 
By  chaste  and  holy  vows  restrained, 
By  reverend  teachers  duly  trained, 
When  he  his  virtue's  fruit  should  taste 
He  falls  by  sin  and  woe  disgraced.' 
Two  words  will  all  his  answer  be 
When  I  pronounce  the  stern  decree, 

*  Hence,  llama,  to  the  woods  away,' 
All  he  will  say  is,  I  obey. 

O,  if  he  would  my  will  withstand 

When  banished  from  his  home  and  land, 

This  were  a  comfort  in  my  woe  ; 

But  he  will  ne'er  do  this,  I  know. 

My  Rama  to  the  forest  fled, 

And  curses  thick  upon  my  head, 

Grim  Death  will  bear  me  hence  away, 

His  world-abominated  prey. 

When  I  am  gone  and  Rama  too, 

How  wilt  thou  thpse  I  love  pursue? 

What  vengeful  sin  will  be  designed 

Against  the  queens  I  leave  behind  ? 

When  thou  hast  slain  her  son  and  me 

Kausalya  soon  will  follow  :  she 

Will  sink  beneath  her  sorrows'  weight, 

And  die  like  me  disconsolate. 

Exult,  Kaikeyi,  in  thy  pride, 

And  let  thy  heart  be  gratified. 

When  thou  my  queens  and  me  hast  burled, 

And  children/ to  the  under  world. 

Soon  wilt  thou  rule  as  empress  o'er 

My  noble  house  unvext  before, 

But  then  to  wild  confusion  left, 


106 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  II. 


Of  Rama  and  of  me  bereft. 
If  Bharat  to  thy  plan  consent 
And  long  for  Rama's  banishment, 
Ne'er  let  his  hands  presume  to  pay 
The  funeral  honours  to  my  clay. 
Vile  foe,  thou  cause,  of  all  mine  ill, 
Obtain  at  last  thy  cursed  will. 
A  widow  soon  shalt  thou  enjoy 
The  sweets  of  empire  with  thy  boy. 
O  Princess,  sure  some  evil  fate 
First  brought  thee  here  to  devastate, 
In  whom  the  night  of  ruin  lies 
Veiled  in  a  consort's  fair  disguise. 
The  scorn  of  all  and  deepest  shame 
Will  long  pursue  my  hated  name, 
And  dire  disgrace  on  me  will  press, 
Misled  by  thee  to  wickedness. 
How  shall  my  Rama,  whom,  before, 
His  elephant  or  chariot  bore, 
Now  with  his  feet,  a  wanderer,  tread 
The  forest  wilds  around  him  spread  ? 
How  shall  my  son,  to  please  whose  taste 
The  deftest  cooks,  with  earrings  graced, 
With  rivalry  and  jealous  care 
The  dainty  meal  and  cates  prepare- 
How  shall  he  now  his  life  sustain 
With  acid  fruit  and  woodland  grain  ? 
He  spends  his  time  unvext  by  cares, 
And  robes  of  precious  texture  wears  ; 
How  shall  he,  with  one  garment  round 
His  limbs  recline  up  n  the  ground? 
Whose  was  this  plan,  this  cruel  thought 
Unheard  till  now,  with  ruin  fraught, 
To  make  thy  son  Ayodhya's  king, 
And  send  my  Rama  wandering  ? 
Shame,  shame  on  women  !  Vile,  untrue, 
Their  selfish  ends  they  still  pursue. 
Not  all  of  womankind  I  mean, 
But  more  than  all  this  wicked  queen. 

0  worthless,  cruel,  selfish  dame, 

I  brought  thee  home,  my  plague  and  woe. 
What  fault  in  me  hast  thou  to  blame, 

Or  in  my  son  who  loves  thee  so? 
Fond  wives  may  from  their  husbands  flee, 

And  fathers  may  their  sons  desert, 
But  all  the  world  would  rave  to  see 

My  Rama  touched  with  deadly  hurt. 

1  joy  Ms  very  step  to  hear, 

As  though  his  godlike  form  I  viewed  ; 
And  when  I  see  my  Rama  near 

I  feel  my  youth  again  renewed. 
There  might  be  life  without  the  sun, 

Yea,  e'en  if  Indra  sent  no  rain, 
But,  were  my  Rama  banished,  none 

"Would,  so  I  think,  alive  remain. 
A  foe  that  longs  my  life  to  take, 

I  brought  thee  here  my  death  to  be, 
Caressed  thee  long,  a  venomed  snake, 

And  through  my  folly  die,  Ah  me  ! 
Bama  and  me  and  Lakshman  slay, 

And  then  with  Bharat  rule  the  state ; 


So  bring  the  kingdom  to  decay, 

And  fawn  on  those  thy  lord  who  hate. 
Plotter  of  woe,  for  evil  bred, 

For  such  a  speech  why  do  not  all 
Thy  teeth  from  out  thy  wicked  head 

Split  in  a  thousand  pieces  fall? 
My  Rama's  words  are  ever  kind, 

He  knows  not  how  to  speak  in  ire  : 
Then  how  canst  thou  presume  to  rind 

A  fault  in  him  whom  all  admire  I 
Yield  to  despair,  go  mad,  or  die, 

Or  sink  within  the  rifted  earth  ; 
Thy  fell  request  will  I  deny, 

Thou  shamer  of  thy  royal  birth. 
Thy  longer  life  I  scarce  can  bear, 

Thou  ruin  of  my  home  and  race, 
Who  wouldst  my  heart  and  heartstrings 
tear, 

Keen  as  a  razor,  false  and  base. 
Mv  life  is  gone,  why  speak  of  joy  / 

For  what,  without  my  son,  were  sweet  ? 
Spare,  lady,  him  thou  canst  destroy  ; 

I  pray  thee  as  I  touch  thy  feet.' 
He  fell  and  wept  with  wild  complaint, 

Heart-struck    by    her    presumptuous 

speeech, 
But  could  not  touch,  so  weak  and  faint, 

The  cruel  feet  he  strove  to  reach. 


CANTO  XIIL 


DA^ARATHA'S   DISTRESS. 

Unworthy  of  his  mournful  fate, 

The  mighty  king,  unfortunate, 

Lay  prostrate  in  unseemly  guise, 

As,  banished  from  the  blissful  skies, 

Yayati,  in  his  evil  day, 

His  merit  all  exhausted,  lay.1 

The  queen,  triumphant  in  the  power 

Won  by  her  beauty's  fatal  dower, 

Still  terrible  and  unsubdued, 

Her  dire  demand  again  renewed : 

'  Great  Monarch,  'twas  thy  boast  till  now 

To  love  the  truth  and  keep  the  vow ; 

Then  wherefore  would  thy  lips  refuse 

The  promised  boon  'tis  mine  to  choose  ? ' 

King  Dasaratha,  thus  addressed, 
With  anger  raging  in  his  breast, 
Sank  for  a  while  beneath  the  pain, 
Then  to  Kaikeyi  spoke  again  : 


1  Only  the  highest  merit  obtains  a  home 
in  heaven  for  ever.  Minor  degrees  of 
merit  procure  only  leases  of  heavenly 
mansions  terminable  after  periods  propor- 
tioned to  the  fund  which  buys  them.  King 
Yayati  went  to  heaven  and  when  his  term 
expired  was  unceremoniously  ejected,  and 
thrown  down  to  earth. 


n  to  XIV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


107 


'  Childless  so  long,  at  length  I  won, 

With  mighty  toil,  from  Heaven  a  son, 

Rama,  the  mighty-armed  ;  and  how 

Shall  I  desert  my  darling  now  ? 

A  scholar  wise,  a  hero  bold, 

Of  patient  mood,  with  wrath  controlled, 

How  can  I  bid  my  Rama  lly, 

My  darling  of  the  lotus  eye  ? 

In  heaven  itself  I  scarce  could  bear, 

When  asking  of  my  Rama  there, 

To  hear  the  Gods  his  griefs  declare, 

And  O,  that  death  would  take  me  hence 

Before  I  wrong  his  innocence  1 ' 

As  thus  the  monarch  wept  and  wailed, 
And  maddening  grief  his  heart  assailed, 
The  sun  had  sought  his  resting-place, 
And  night  was  closing  round  apaoe. 
But  yet  the  moon-crowned  night  could 

bring 

No  comfort  to  the  wretched  king. 
As  still  he  mourned  with  burning  sighs 
And  fixed  his  gaze  upon  the  skies  : 
4  O  Night  whom  starry  fires  adorn, 
T  long  not  for  the  coming  morn. 
Be  kind  and  show  some  mercy:  see, 
My  suppliant  hands  are  raised  to  thee. 
Nay,  rather  fly  with  swifter  pace; 
Ho  longer  would  I  see  the  face 
Of  Queen  Kaikeyi,  cruel,  dread, 
Who  brings  this  woe  upon  mine  head.' 
Again  with  suppliant  hands  he  tried 
To  move  the  queen,  and  wept  and  sighed: 
'  To  me,  unhappy  me,  inclined 
To  good,  sweet  dame,  thou  shouldst  be  kind  ; 
Whose  life  is  well-nigh  fled,  who  cling 
To  thee  for  succour,  me  thy  king. 
This,  only  this,  is  all  my  claim  : 
Have  mercy,  O  my  lovely  dame. 
None  else  have  i  to  take  my  part : 
Have  mercy :  thou  art  good  at  heart. 
Hear,  lady  of  the  soft  black  eye. 
And  win  a  name  that  ne'er  shall  die  : 
Let  Rama  rule  this  glorious  land, 
The  gift  of  thine  imperial  hand, 
O  lady  of  the  dainty  waist, 
With  eyes  and  lips  of  beauty  graced, 
Please  Rama,  me,  each  saintly  priest, 
Bharat,  and  all  from  chief  to  least.' 
She  heard  his  wild  and  mournful  cry, 

She  saw  the  tears  his  speech  that  broke, 
Saw  her  good  hasband's  reddened  eye, 

But,  cruel  still,  no  word  she  spoke. 
His  eyes  upon  her  face  he  bent, 

And  sought  for  mercy,  but  in  vain  : 

She  claimed  his  darling's  banishment, 

He  swooned  upon,  the  ground  again. 


CANTO  XIV. 


RAMA  SUMMONED. 

The  wicked  queen  her  speech  renewed, 
When  rolling  on  the  earth  she  viewed 
Ikshv^ku's  son,  Ayodhya's  king, 
For  his  dear  Rama  sorrowing  : 
*  Why,  by  a  simple  promise  bound, 
Liest  thou  prostrate  on  the  ground, 
As  though  a  grievous  sin  dismayed 
Thy  spirit  ?    Why  so  sore  afraid  ! 
Keep  still  thy  word.    The  righteous  deem 
That  truth,  mid  duties,  is  supreme  : 
And  now  in  truth  and  honour's  name 
I  bid  thee  own  the  binding  claim. 
&aivya,  a  king  whom  earth  obeyed, 
Once  to  a  hawk  a  promise  made, 
Gave  to  the  bird  his  flesh  and  bone, 
And  by  his  truth  made  heaven  his  own.1 
Alarka,  when  a  Brahman  famed 
For  Scripture  lore  his  promise  claimed, 
Tore  from  his  head  his  bleeding  eyes 
And  unreluctant  gave  the  prize. 
His  narrow  bounds  prescribed  restrain 
The  Rivers'  Lord,  the  mighty  main, 
Who,  though  his  waters  boil  and  rave, 
Keeps  faithful  to  the  word  he  gave, 
Truth  all  religion  comprehends, 
Through  all  the  world  its  might  extends: 
In  truth  alone  is  justice  placed, 
On  truth  the  words  of  God  are  based  ; 
A  life  in  truth  unchanging  past 
Will  bring  the  highest  bliss  at  last 
If  thou  the  right  would  still  pursue, 
Be  constant  to  thy  word  and  true  : 
Let  me  thy  promise  fruitful  see, 
For  boons,  O  King,  proceed  from  thee. 
STow  to  preserve  thy  righteous  fame, 
And  yielding  to  my  earnest  claim- 
Thrice  I  repeat  it — send  thy  child, 
Chy  Rama,  to  the  forest  wild. 
3ut  if  the  boon  thou  still  deny, 
Before  thy  face,  forlorn,  I  die.' 
Thus  was  the  helpless  monarch  stung 
y  Queen  Kaikeyi's  fearless  tongue, 
As  Bali  strove  in  vain  to  loose 

limbs  from  Indra's  fatal  noose. 
Dismayed  in  soul  and  pale  with  fear, 
The  monarch,  like  a  trembling  steer 
between  the  chariot's  wheel  and  yoke, 
Again  to  Queen  Kaikeyi  spoke, 
With  sad  eyes  fixt  in  vacant  stare, 
Gathering  courage  from  despair  : 
*  That  hand  I  took,  thou  sinful  dame, 
With  texts,  before  the  sacred  flame, 
Thee  and  thy  son,  I  scorn  and  hate, 
And  all  at  once  repudiate. 


»  See  Additional  Notes,  THE  SUPPLIANT 
DOVE. 


108 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Zook  11. 


The  night  is  fled:  the  dawn  is  near : 
Soon  will  the  holy  priests  be  here 
TO  bid  me  for  the  rite  prepare 
That  with  my  son  the  throne  will  share, 
The  preparation  made  to  grace 
My  Rama  in  his  royal  place— 
With  this,  e'en  this,  my  darling  for 
My  death  the  funeral  flood  shall  pour. 
Thou  and  thy  son  at  least  forbear 
In  offerings  to  my  shade  to  share, 
For  by  the  plot  thy  guile  has  laid 
His  consecration  will  be  stayed. 
This  very  day  how  shall  I  brook 
To  meet  each  subject's  altered  look? 
To  mark  each  gloomy  joyless  brow 
That  was  so  bright  and  glad  but  now  ? ' 
While  thus  the  high-souled  monarch 

spoke 

To  the  stern  queen,  the  morning  broke, 
And  holy  night  had  slowly  fled, 
With  moon  and  stars  engarlanded. 
Yet  once  again  the  cruel  queen 
Spoke  words  in  answer  fierce  and  keen, 
Still  on  her  evil  purpose  bent, 
Wil'd  with  her  rage  and  eloquent : 
*  What  speech  is  this  ?  Such  words  as  these 
Seem  sprung  from  poison-sown  disease. 
Quick  to  thy  noble  Rama  send 
And  bid  him  on  his  sire  attend. 
When  to  my  son  the  rule  is  given  ; 
When  Rama  to  the  woods  is  driven  ; 
When  not  a  rival  copes  with  me, 
From  chains  of  duty  thou  art  free.' 

Thus  goaded,  like  a  generous  steed 
Urged  by  sharp  spurs  to  double  speed, 
'  My  senses  are  astray,'  he  cried, 
'  And  duty's  bonds  my  hands  have  tied. 
I  long  to  see  mine  eldest  son, 
My  virtuous,  my  beloved  one.' 

And  now  the  night  had  past  away  ; 
Out  shone  the  Maker  of  the  Day, 
Bringing  the  planetary  hour 
And  moment  of  auspicious  power. 
Vasishtha,  virtuous,  far  renowned, 
Whose  young  disciples  girt  him  round, 
With  sacred  things  without  delay 
Through  the  fair  city  took  his  way. 
He  traversed,  where  the  people  thronged. 
And  all  for  Rama's  coming  longed, 
The  town  as  fair  in  festive  show 
As  his  who  lays  proud  cities  low.1 
He  reached  the  palace  where  he  heard 
The  mingled  notes  of  many  a  bird, 
Where  crowded  thick  high-honoured  bands 
Of  guards  with  truncheons  in  their  hands. 
Begirt  by  many  a  sage,  elate, 
Vasishtha  reached  the  royal  gate, 


1  Indra,  called  also  Purandara,  Town  - 
destroyer. 


And  standing  by  the  door  he  found 
Sumantra,  for  his  form  renowned, 
The  king's  illustrious  charioteer 
And  noble  counsellor  and  peer. 
To  him  well  skilled  in  every  part 
Of  his  hereditary  art 
Vasishtha  said  :  *  O  charioteer, 
Inform  the  king  that  I  am  here. 
Here  ready  by  my  side  behold 
These  sacred  vessels  made  of  gold, 
Which  water  for  the  rite  contain 
From  Ganga  and  each  distant  main. 
Here  for  installing  I  have  brought 
The  seat  prescribed  of  fig-wood  wrought, 
All  kinds  of  seed  and  precious  scent 
And  many  a  gem  and  ornament ; 
Grain,  sacred  grass,  the  garden's  spoil,  . 
Honey  and  curds  and  milk  and  oil ; 
Eight  radiant  maids,  the  best  of  all 
War  elephants  that  feed  in  stall; 
A  four-horse  car,  a  bow  and  sword, 
A  litter,  men  to  bear  their  lord  ; 
A  white  umbrella  bright  and  fair 
That  with  the  moon  may  well  compare ; 
Two  chouries  of  the  whitest  hair  ; 
A  golden  beaker  rich  and  rare  ; 
A  bull  high-humped  and  fair  to  view, 
Girt  with  gold  bands  and  white  of  hue  ; 
A  four-toothed  steed  with  flowing  mane,  . 
A  throne  which  lions  carved  sustain  ; 
A  tiger's  skin,  the  sacred  fire, 
Fresh  kindled,  which  the  rites  require  ; 
The  best  musicians  skilled  to  play, 
And  dancing-girls  in  raiment  gay  ; 
Kine,  Brahmans,  teachers  fill  the  court, 
And  bird  and  beast  of  purest  sort. 
From  town  and  village,  far  and  near, 
The  noblest  men  are  gathered  here  ; 
Here  merchants  with  their  followers  crowd, 
And  men  in  joyful  converse  loud, 
And  kings  from  many  a  distant  land 
To  view  the  consecration  stand. 
The  dawn  is  come,  the  lucky  day  ; 
Go  bid  the  monarch  haste  away, 
That  now  Prince  Rama  may  obtain 
The  empire,  and  begin  his  reign/ 

Soon  as  he  heard  the  high  behest 
The  driver  of  the  chariot  pressed 
Within  the  chambers  of  the  king, 
His  lord  with  praises  honouring. 
And  none  of  all  the  warders  checked 
His  entrance  for  their  great  respect 
Of  him  well  known,  in  place  so  high, 
Still  fain  their  king  to  gratify. 
He  stood  beside  the  royal  chief, 
Unwitting  of  his  deadly  grief, 
And  with  sweet  words  began  to  sing 
The  praises  of  his  lord  and  king: 
'  As,  when  the  sun  begins  to  rise, 
The  sparkling  sea  delights  our  eyes, 
Wake,  calm  with  gentle  soul,  and  thus 


Canto  XV. 


THE 


109 


Give  rapture,  mighty  King,  to  us. 
As  Matali1  this  self  same  hour 
feang  lauds  of  old  to  Indra's  power, 
"When  he  the  Titan  hosts  o'erthrew, 
So  hymn  I  tliee  with  praises  due. 
The  Vedas,  with  their  kindred  lore, 
Brahma  their  soul- born  Lord  adore, 
Wita  all  the  doctrines  of  the  wise, 
And  bid  him.  as  I  bid  thee,  rise. 
As,  with  the  moon,  the  Lord  of  Day 
Wakes  with  the  splendour  of  his  ray 
Prolifis  Earth,  who  neath  him  lies, 
So,  mighty  King,  I  bid  thee  rise. 
With  b.issful  words,  O  Lord  of  men, 
Rise,  radiant  in  thy  form,  as  when 
The  sun  ascending  darts  his  light 
Froni'Meru'a  everlasting  height. 
May  £iva,  Agni,  Sun,  and  Moon 
Bestow  on  thee  each  choicest  boon, 
Kuvera,  Varun,  Indra  bless 
Kakutstha's  son  with  all  success. 
Awake,  the  holy  night  is  fled, 
The  happy  light  abroad  is  spread  ; 
Awake,  O  best  of  kings,  and  share 
The  glorious  task  that  claims  thy  care. 
The  holy  sage  Vasishtha  waits, 
With  all  his  Brahmans,  at  the  gates. 
Give  thy  decree,  without  delay, 
To  consecrate  thy  son  to-day. 
As  armies,  by  no  captain  led, 
As  flocks  that  feed  unshepherded, 
Such  is  the  fortune  of  a  state 
Without  a  king  and  desolate.' 

Such  were  the  words  the  bard  addressed, 
With  weight  of  sage  advice  impressed  ; 
And,  as  he  heard,  the  hapless  king 
Felt  deeper  yet  his  sorrow's  sting. 
At  length,  all  joy  and  comfort  fled, 
He  raised  his  eyes  with  weeping  red, 
And,  mournful  for  his  Rama's  sake, 
The  good  and  glorious  monarch  spake: 
'  Why  seek  with  idle  praise  to  greet 
The  wretch  for  whom  no  praise  is  meet  ? 
Thy  words  mine  aching  bosom  tear, 
And  plunge  me  deeper  in  despair.' 

Sumantra  heard  the  sad  reply, 
And  saw  his  master's  tearful  eye. 
With  reverent  palm  to  palm  applied 
He  drew  a  little  space  aside. 
Then,  as  the  king,  with  misery  weak, 
With  vain  endeavour  strove  to  speak, 
Kaikeyi,  skilled  in  plot  and  plan, 
To  sage  Sumantra  thus  began : 
'  The  king,  absorbed  in  joyful  thought 
For  hi?  dear  son,  no  rest  has  sought : 
Sleepless  to  him  the  night  has  past, 
And  now  o'erwatched  he  sinks  at  last. 
Then  go,  Sumantra,  and  with  speed 

1  Indra's  charioteer. 


The  glorious  Rama  hither  lead : 
Go,  as  I  pray,  nor  longer  wait ; 
No  time  is  this  to  hesitate.' 

'  How  can  I  go,  O  Lady  fair, 
Unless  my  lord  his  will  declare  ?' 

*  Fain  would  I  see  him,'  cried  the  king, 
.'  Quick,  quick,  my  beauteous  Rama  bring.' 

Then  rose  the  happy  thought  to  cheer 
The  bosom  of  the  charioteer, 
'  The  king,  I  ween,  of  pious  mind, 
The  consecration  has  designed.' 
Sumantra  for  his  wisdom  famed, 
Delighted  with  the  thought  he  framed, 
From  the  calm  chamber,  like  a  bay 
Of  crowded  ocean,  took  his  way. 

He  turned  his  face  to  neither  side, 

But  forth  he  hurried  straight  ; 
Only  a  little  while  he  eyed 
The  guards  who  kept  the  gate. 
He  saw  in  front  a  gathered  crowd 

Of  men  of  every  class, 
Who,  parting  as  he  came,  allowed 

The  charioteer  to  pass. 

CANTO  XV. 
THE  PREPARATIONS. 

There  slept  the  Brahmans,  deeply  read  . 
In  Scripture,  till  the  night  had  fled  ; 
Then,  with  the  royal  chaplains,  they 
Took  each  his  place  in  lon<*  array. 
There  gathered  fast  the  chiefs  of  trade, 
Nor  peer  nor  captain  long  delayed, 
Assembling  all  in  order  due 
The  consecrating  rite  to  view. 

The  morning  dawned  with  cloudless  ray 
On  Pushya's  high  auspicious  day, 
And  Cancer  with  benignant  power 
Looked  down  on  Kama's  natal  hour. 
The  twice-born  chiefs,  with  zealous  heed, 
Made  ready  what  the  rite  would  need. 
The  well-wrought  throne  of  holy  wood 
And  golden  urns  in  order  stood. 
There  was  the  royal  car  whereon 
A  tiger's  skin  resplendent  shone; 
There  water,  brought  for  sprinkling  thence 
Where,  in  their  sacred  confluence, 
Blend  Jumna's  waves  with  Ganga's  tide, 
?rom  many  a  holy  flood  beside, 
From  brook  and  fountain  far  and  near, 
From  pool  and  river,  sea  and  mere. 
And  there  were  honey,  curd,  and  oil, 
Parched  rice  and  grass,  the  garden's  spoil, 
Fresh  milk,  eight  girls  in  bright  attire, 
An  elephant  with  eyes  of  fire  ; 
And  urns  of  gold  and  silver  made, 
With  milky  branches  overlaid, 
All  brimming  from  each  sacred  flood, 
And  decked  with  many  a  lotus  bud. 


110 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Soot  II. 


And  dancing- women  fair  and  free, 
Gay  with  their  gems,  were  there  to  see, 
Who  stood  in  bright  apparel  by 
With  lovely  brow  and  witching  eye. 
White  flashed  the  jewelled  chouri  there, 
And  shone  like  moonbeams  through  the  air; 
T  he  white  umbrella  overhead 
A  pale  and  moonlike  lustre  shed, 
Wont  in  pure  splendour  to  precede, 
And  in  such  rites  the  pomp  to  lead. 
There  stood  the  charger  by  the  side 
Of  the  great  bull  of  snow-white  hide  ; 
There  was  all  music  soft  and  loud, 
And  bards  and  minstrels  swelled  the  crowd. 
For  now  the  monarch  bade  combine 
Each  custom  of  his  ancient  line 
With  every  rite  Ayodhya's  state 
Observed,  her  kings  to  consecrate. 

Then,  summoned  by  the  king's  behest, 
The  multitudes  together  pressed, 
And,  missing  still  the  royal  sire, 
Began,  impatient,  to  inquire : 
4  Who  to  our  lord  will  tidings  bear 
That  all  his  people  throng  the  square? 
Where  is  the  king?  the  sun  is  bright, 
And  all  is  ready  for  the  rite.' 

As  thus  they  spoke,  Sumantra,  tried 
In  counsel,  to  the  chiefs  replied, 
Gathered  from  lands  on  every  side : 
'  To  Rama's  house  I  swiftly  drave, 
For  so  the  king  his  mandate  gave. 
Our  aged  lord  and  R6ma  too 
In  honour  high  hold  all  of  you  : 
I  in  your  words  (be  long  your  days!) 
Will  ask  him  why  he  thus  delays.' 

Thus  spoke  the  peer  in  Scripture  read, 
And  to  the  ladies'  bower  he  sped. 
Quick  through  the  gates  Sumantra  hied, 
Which  access  ne'er  to  him  denied. 
Behind  the  curtained  screen  he  drew, 
Which  veiled  the  chamber  from  the  view. 
In  benediction  loud  he  raised 
His  voice,  and  thus  the  monarch  praised  : 
'Sun,  Moon,  Kuvera,  £iva  bless 
Kakutstha's  son  with  high  success  I 
The  Lords  of  air,  flood,  fire  decree 
The  victory,  my  King,  to  thee ! 
The  holy  night  has  past  away, 
Auspicious  shines  the  morning's  ray. 
Rise,  Lord  of  men,  thy  part  to  take 
In  the  great  rite,  awake  1  awake ! 
Brahmans  and  captains,  chiefs  of  trade, 
All  wait  in  festive  garb  arrayed  ; 
For  thee  they  look  wiih  enger  eyes  : 
O  Raghu's  son,  awake  !  arise' 

To  him  in  holy  Scripture  read, 
Who  hailed  him  thus,  the  monarch  said, 
Upraising  from  his  sleep  his  head : 
'  Go.  Rama  hither  lead  as  thou 
Wast  ordered  by  the  queen  but  now. 


Come,  tell  me  why  my  mandate  laid 
Upon  thee  thus  is  disobeyed. 
Away !  and  Rarna  hither  bring  ; 
I  sleep  not :  make  no  tarrying.' 

Thus  gave  the  king  command  anew  ,' 
Sumantra  from  hia  lord  withdrew  ; 
With  head  in  lowly  reverence  bent, 
And  filled  with  thoughts  of  joy,  he  vent. 
The  royal  street  he  traversed,  where 
Waved  fla^  and  pennon  to  the  air, 
And,  as  with  joy  the  car  he  drove, 
He  let  his  eyes  delighted  rove. 
On  every  side,  where'er  he  came, 
He  heard  glad  words,  their  theme  the  same, 
As  in  their  joy  the  gathered  folk 
Of  Rama  and  the  throning  spoke. 
Then  saw  he  Rama's  palace  bright 
And  vast  as  Mount  Kailasa's  height, 
That  glorious  in  its  beauty  showed 
As  Indra's  own  supreme  abode  : 
With  folding  doors  both  high  and  wide ; 
With  hundred  porches  beautified  : 
Where  golden  statues  towering  rose 
O'er  gemmed  and  coral  led  porticoes  : 
Bright  like  a  cave  in  Meru's  side, 
Or  clouds  through  Autumn's  sky  that  ride: 
Festooned  with  length  of  bloomy  twine, 
Flashing  with  pearls  and  jewels'  shine, 
While  sandal-wood  and  aloe  lent 
The  mingled  riches  of  their  scent ; 
With  all  the  odorous  sweets  that  fill 
The  breezy  heights  of  Dardar's  hill. 
There  by  the  gate  the  Saras  screamed. 
And     shrill-toned     peacocks'     plumage 

gleamed. 

Its  floors  with  deftest  art  inlaid, 
Its  sculptured  wolves  in  gold  arrayed, 
With  its  bright  sheen  the  palace  took 
The  mind  of  man  and  chained  the  look, 
For  like  the  sun  and  moon  it  glowed, 
And  mocked  Kuvera's  loved  abode. 
C  ircling  the  walls  a  crowd  he  viewed 
Who  stood  in  reverent  attitude, 
With  throngs  of  countrymen  who  sought 
Acceptance  of  the  gifts  they  brought. 
The  elephant  was  stationed  there, 
Appointed  Rama's  self  to  bear; 
Adorned  with  pearls,  his  brow  and  cheek 
Were  sandal-dyed  in  many  a  streak, 
While  he,  in  stature,  bulk,  and  pride, 
With  Indra's  own  Aiiavat1  vied. 
Sumantra,  borne  by  coursers  fleet, 
Flashing  a  radiance  o'er  the  street, 

To  Rama's  palace  flew, 
And  all  who  lined  the  royal  road, 
Or  thronged  the  prince's  rich  abode, 

Rejoiced  as  near  he  drew. 
And  with  delight  his  bosom  swelled 
As  onward  still  his  course  he  held 


1  The  elephant  of  India. 


Canto  XVL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Ill 


Through  many  a  sumptuous  court 
Like  Indra's  palace  nobly  made, 
Where  peacocks  revelled  in  the  shade, 

And  beasts  of  silvan  sort. 
Through  many  a  hall  and  chamber  wide, 
That  with  Kailasa's  splendour  vied, 

Or  mansions  of  the  Blest, 
While  Rama's  friends,  beloved  and  tried, 
Before  his  coming  stepped  aside, 

Still  on  Sumantra  pressed. 
He  reached  the  chamber  door,  where  stood 
Around  his  followers  young  and  good, 
Bard,  minstrel,  charioteer. 
Well  skilled  the  tuneful  chords  to  sweep, 
With  soothing  strain  to  lull  to  sleep, 

Or  laud  their  master  dear. 
Then,  like  a  dolphin  darting  through 
Unfathomed  depths  of  ocean's  blue 

With  store  of  jewels  decked, 
Through  crowded  halls  that  rock-like  rose, 
Or  as  proud  hills  where  clouds  repose, 

Sumantra  sped  unchecked — 
Halls  like  the  glittering  domes  on  high 
Beared  for  the  dwellers  of  the  sky 

By  heavenly  architect. 


CANTO  XVI. 


RAMA  SUMMONED. 

So  through  the  crowded  inner  door 
Sumantra,  skilled  in  ancient  lore, 
On  to  the  private  chambers  pressed 
Which  stood  apart  from  all  the  rest. 
There  youthful  warriors,  true  and  bold, 
Whose  ears  were  ringed  with  polished  gold. 
All  armed  with  trusty  bows  and  darts, 
Watched  with  devoted  eyes  andShearts. 
And  hoary  men,  a  faithful  train, 
Whose  aged  hands  held  staves  of  cane, 
The  ladies'  guard,  apparelled  fair 
In  red  attire,  were  stationed  there. 
Soon  as  they  saw  Sumantra  nigh, 
Each  longed  his  lord  to  gratify, 
And  from  his  seat  beside  the  door 
Up  sprang  each  ancient  servitor. 
Then  to  the  warders  quickly  cried 
The  skilled  Sumantra,  void  of  pride  : 
'Tell  Rama  that  the  charioteer 
Sumantra  waits  for  audience  here/ 
The  ancient  men  with  one  accord 
Seeking  the  pleasure  of  their  lord, 
Passing  with  speed  the  chamber  door 
To  Rama's  ear  the  message  bore. 
Forthwith  the  prince  with  duteous  heed 
Called  in  the  messenger  with  speed, 
For  'twas  his  sire's  command,  he  knew, 
That  sent  him  for  the  interview. 
Like  Lord_Kuvera,  well  arrayed, 


He  pressed  a  couch  of  gold, 
Wherefrom  a  covering  of  brocade 

Hung  down  in  many  a  fold. 
Oil  and  the  sandal's  fragrant  dust 

Had  tinged  his  body  o'er 
Dark  as  the  stream  the  spearman's  thrust 

Drains  from  the  wounded  boar. 
Him  Sita  watched  with  tender  care, 

A  chouri  in  her  hand, 
As  Chitra,1  ever  fond  in  fair, 

Beside  the  Moon  will  stand. 
Him  glorious  with  unborrowed  light, 
A  liberal  lord  of  sunlike  joight, 
Sumantra  hailed  in  words  like  these, 
Well  skilled  in  gentle  courtesies, 
As,  with  joined  hands  in  reverence  raised, 
Upon  the  beauteous  prince  he  gazed  : 
1  Happy  Kausalya  !  Blest  is  she, 
The  Mother  of  a  son  like  thee. 
Now  rise,  O  Rama,  speed  away, 
Go  to  thy  sire  without  delay  ; 
For  he  and  Queen  Kaikeyi  seek 
And  interview  with  thee  to  speak.1 

The  lion-lord  of  men,  the  best 
Of  splendid  heroes,  thus  addressed, 
To  Sita  spake  with  joyful  cheer  : 
'  The  king  and  queen,  my  lady  dear, 
Touching  the  throning,  for  my  saka 
Some  salutary  counsel  take. 
The  lady  of  the  full  bla  -k  eye 
Would  fain  her  husband  gratify, 
And,  all  his  purpose  understood, 
Counsels  the  monarch  to  my  good. 
A  happy  fate  is  mine,  I  ween, 
When  he,  consulting  with  his  queen, 
Sumantra  on  this  charge,  intent 
Upon  my  gain  and  good,  has  sent. 
An  envoy  of  so  noble  sort 
Well  suits  the  splendour  of  the  court. 
The  consecration  rite  this  day 
Will  join  me  in  imperial  sway. 
To  meet  the  lord  of  earth,  for  so 
His  order  bids  me,.  I  will  go. 
Thou,  lady,  here  in  comfort  stay, 
And  with  thy  maidens  rest  or  play/ 

Thus  Rama  spake.    For  meet  reply 
The  lady  of  the  large  black  eye 
Attended  to  the  door  her  lord, 
And  blessings  on  his  head  implored  : 
'The  majesty  and  royal  state 
Which  holy  Brahmans  venerate, 
The  consecration  and  the  rite 
Which  sanctities  the  ruler's  might, 
And  all  imperial  powers  should  be 
Thine  by  thy  father's  high  decree, 
As  He,  the  worlds  who  formed  and  planned, 
The  kingship  gave  to  Indra's  hand. 


1  A  star  in  the  spike  of  Virgo  :  hence 
the  name  of  the  month  Chaitra,  or  Chai* 


112 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  n 


Then  shall  mine  eyes  my  king  adore 
When  iustral  rites  and  fast  are  o'er, 
And  black  deer's  skin  and  roebuck's  horn 
Thy  lordly  limbs  and  hand  adorn. 
May  He  whose  hands  the  thunder  wield 
Be  in  the  east  thy  guard  and  shield  ; 
May  Yama's  care  the  south  befriend, 
And  Varun's  arm  the  west  defend  ; 
And  let  Kuvera.  Lord  of  Gold, 
The  north  with  firm  protection  hold.' 

Then  Ratna  spoke  a  kind  farewell, 
And  hailed  the  blessings  as  they  fell 
From  Sita's  gentle  lips  ;  and  then, 
As  a  young  lion  from  his  den 
Descends  the  mountain's  stony  side, 
So  from  the  hall  the  hero  hied. 
First  Lakshman  at  the  door  he  viewed 
Who  stood  in  reverent  attitude, 
Then  to  the  central  court  he  pressed 
Where  watched  the  friends  who  loved  him 

best. 

To  all  his  dear  companions  there 
He  gave  kind  looks  and  greeting  fair. 
On  to  the  lofty  car  that  glowed 
Like  fire  the  royal  tiger  strode. 
Bright  as  himself  its  silver  shone  : 
A  tiger's  skin  was  laid  thereon. 
With  cloudlike  thunder,  as  it  rolled, 
It  flashed  with  gems  and  burnished  gold, 
And,  like  the  sun's  meridian  blaze, 
Blinded  the  eye  that  none  could  gaze. 
Like  youthful  elephants,  tall  and  strong, 
Fleet  coursers  whirled  the  car  along : 
In  such  a  car  the  Thousand-eyed 
Borne  by  swift  horses  loves  to  ride. 
So  like  Parjanya,1  when  he  flies 
Thundering  through  the  autumn  skies, 
The  hero  from  the  palace  sped, 
As  leaves  the  moon  some  cloud  o'erhead. 
Still  close  to  Rama  Lakshman  kept, 
Behind  him  to  the  car  he  leapt, 
And,  watching  with  fraternal  care, 
Waved  the  long  chouri's  silver  hair, 
As  from  the  palace  gate  he  came 
Up  rose  the  tumult  of  acclaim, 
While  loud  huzza  and  jubilant  shout 
Pealed  from  the  gathered  myriads  out. 
Then  elephants,  like  mountains  vast, 
And  steeds  who  all  their  kind  surpassed, 
Followed  their  lord  by  hundreds,  nay 
By  thousands,  led  in  long  array. 
First  marched  a  band  of  warriors  trained, 
With  sandal  dust  and  aloe  stained  ; 
Well  armed  was  each  with  sword  and  bow, 
And  every    breast  with  hope  aglow, 
And  ever,  as  they  onward  went, 

Shouts  from  the  warrior  train, 
And  every  sweet-toned  instrument 

Prolonged  the  minstrel  strain. 


^he  Bain-God. 


On  passed  the  tamer  of  his  foes, 
While  well  clad  dames,  in  crowded  rows, 
Each  chamber  lattice  thronged  to  view, 
And  chaplets  on  the  hero  threw. 
Then  all,  of  peerless  face  and  limb, 
Sang  Rama's  praise  for  love  of  him, 
And  blent  their  voices,  soft  and  sweet, 
From  palace  high  and  crowded  street : 

*  Now,  sure,  Kausah  a's  heart  must  swell 
To  see  the  son  she  loves  so  well, 
Thee.Rama,  thee,  her  joy  and  pride, 
Triumphant  o'er  the  realm  preside.' 
Then — for  they  knew  his  bride  most  fair 
Of  all  who  part  the  soft  dark  hair, 

His  love,  his  life,  possessed  the  whole 
Of  her  young  hero's  heart  and  soul  : — 

*  Be  sure  the  lady's  fate  repays 
Some  mighty  vow  of  ancient  days,1 
For  blest  with  Rama's  love  is  she 
As,  with  the  Moon's,  sweet  Rohini.'2 

Such  were  the  witching  words  that  came 
From  lips  of  many  a  peerless  dame 
Crowding  the  palace  roofs  to  greet 
The  hero  as  he  gained  the  street. 

CANTO  XVII. 


KAMA'S  APPROACH. 

As  Rama,  rendering  blithe  and  gay 
His  loving  friends,  pursued  his  way, 
He  saw  on  either  hand  a  press 
Of  mingled  people  numberless. 
The  royal  street  he  traversed,  where 
Incense  of  aloe  filled  the  air, 
Where  rose  high  palaces,  that  vied 
With  paly  clouds,  on  either  side  ; 
With  flowers  of  myriad  colours  graced, 
And  food  for  every  varied  taste, 
Bright  as  the  glowing  path  o'erhead 
Which  feet  of  Gods  celestial  tread. 
Loud  benedictions,  sweet  to  hear, 
From  countless  voices  soothed  his  ear. 
While  he  to  each  gave  due  salute 
His  place  and  dignity  to  suit: 
*  Be  thou.'  the  joyful  people  cried, 
1  Be  thou  our  guardian,  lord  arid  guide. 
Throned  and  anointed  king  to-day, 
Thy  feet  set  forth  upon  the  way 
Wherein,  each  honoured  as  a  God, 
Thy  fathers  and  forefathers  trod. 
Thy  sire  and  his  have  graced  the  throne, 
And  loving  care  to  us  have  shown  : 
Thus  blest  shall  we  and  ours  remain, 
Yea  still  more  blest  fn  Rama's  reign. 


1  In  a  former  life. 

a  One  of  the  lunar  asterisms,  represented 
as  the  favourite  wife  of  the  Moon.  See 
p.  4,  note, 


Canto  XV1IL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


113 


No  more  of  dainty  fare  we  need, 
And  but  one  cherished  object  heed, 
That  we  may  see  our  prince  to-day 
Invested  with  imperial  sway.' 

Such  were  the  words  and  pleasant  speech 
That  Rama  heard,  unmoved,  from  each 
Of  the  dear  friends  around  him  spread, 
As  onward  through  the  street  he  sped. 
For  none  could  turn  his  eye  or  thought 
From  the  dear  form  his  glances  sought, 
With  fruitless  ardour  forward  cast 
Even  when  Raghu's  son  had  past. 
And  he  who  saw  not  Rama  nigh, 
Nor  caught  a  look  from  Rama's  eye, 
A  mark  for  scorn  and  general  blame, 
Reproached  himself  in  bitter  shame. 
For  to  each  class  his  equal  mind 
With  sympathy  and  love  inclined 
Most  fully  of  the  princely  four, 
So  greatest  love  to  him  they  bore, 

His  circling  course  the  hero  bent 
Round  shrine  and  altar,  reverent, 
Bound  homes  of  Gods,  where  cross-roads 

met, 

Where  many  a  sacred  tree  was  set. 
Near  to  his  father's  house  he  drew 
Like  Indra's  beautiful  to  view, 
And  with  the  light  his  glory  gave 
Within  the  royal  palace  drave. 
Through  three  broad  courts,  where  bow- 
men kept 

Their  watch  and  ward,  his  coursers  swept, 
Then  through  the  two  remaining  went 
On  foot  that  prince  preeminent. 
Through  all  the  courts  the  hero  passed, 
And  gained  the  ladies'  bower  at  last ; 
Then  through  the  door  alone  withdrew, 
And  left  without  his  retinue. 
When  thus  the  monarch's  noble  boy 

Had  gone  his  sire  to  meet, 
The  multitude,  elate  with  joy, 

Stood  watching  in  the  street, 
And  his  return  with  eager -eyes 

Expected  at  the  gates, 
As  for  his  darling  moon  to  rise 
The  King  of  Rivers1  waits. 

CANTO  XVIII. 


THE  SENTENCE. 

With  hopeless  eye  and  pallid  mien 
There  sat  the  monarch  with  the  queen. 
His  father's  feet  with  reverence  due 
He  clasped,  arid  touched  Kaikeyi's  too. 
The  king,  with  eyes  still  brimming  o'er, 
Cried  Rama  1  and  could  do  no  more. 


The  Sea. 


His  voice  was  choked,  his  -eye  was  dim, 
He  could  not  speak  or  look  on  him. 
Then  sudden  fear  made  Rama  shake 
As  though  his  foot  had  roused  a  snake, 
Soon  as  his  eyes  had  seen  the  change 
So  mournful,  terrible,  and  strange. 
For  there,  his  reason  well-nigh  fled, 
Sighing,  with  soul  disquieted, 
To  torturing  pangs  a  prey, 
Dismayed,  despairing,  and  distraught,  , 
In  a  fierce  whirl  of  wildering  thought 

The  hapless  monarch  lay, 
Like  Ocean  wave-engarlanded 
Storm-driven  from  his  tranquil  bed, 

The  Sun-God  in  eclipse, 
Or  like  a  holy  seer,  heart- stirred 
With  anguish,  when  a  lying  word 

Has  passed  his  heedless  lips. 
The  sight  of  his  dear  father,  pained 
With  woe  and  misery  unexplained, 

Filled  Rama  with  unrest, 
As  Ocean's  pulses  rise  and  swell 
When  the  great  moon  he  loves  so  well 

Shines  full  upon  his  breast. 
So  grieving  for  his  father's  sake, 
To  his  own  heart  the  hero  spake  : 
'  Why  will  the  king  my  sire  to-day 
No  kindly  word  of  greeting  say  ? 
At  other  times,  though  wroth  he  be. 
His  eyes  grow  calm  that  look  on  me. 
Then  why  does  anguish  wring  his  brow 
To  see  his  well-beloved  now  ? ' 
Sick  and  perplexed,  distraught  with  woe, 
To  Queen  Kaikeyi  bowing  low, 
While  pallor  o'er  his  bright  cheek  spread, 
With  humble  reverence  he  said : 
•  What  have  I  done,  unknown,  amiss 
To  make  my  father  wroth  like  this? 
Declare  it,  O  dear  Queen,  and  win 
His  pardon  for  my  heedless  sin. 
Why  is  the  sire  I  ever  find 
Filled  with  all  love  to-day  unkind? 
With  eyes  cast  down  and  pallid  cheek 
This  day  alone  he  will  not  speak. 
Or  lies  he  prostrate  neath  the  blow 
Of  tierce  disease  or  sudden  woe  ? 
For  all  our  bliss  is  dashed  with  pain, 
And  joy  unmixt  is  hard  to  gain. 
Does  stroke  of  evil  fortune  smite 
Dear  Bharat,  charming  to  the  sight,  , 
Or  on  the  brave  Satrughna  fall, 
Or  consorts,  for  he  loves  them  all  ? 
Against  his  words  when  I  rebel, 
Or  fail  to  please  the  monarch  well, 
When  deeds  of  mine  his  soul  offend, 
That  hour  I  pray  my  life  may  end. 
How  should  a  man  to  him  who  gave 
His  being  and  his  life  behave? 
The  sire  to  whom  he  owes  his  birth 
Should  be  his  deity  on  earth. 
Hast  thou,  by  pride  and  folly  moved, 


114 


TEE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  It 


With  bitter  taunt  the  king  reproved  ? 
Has  scorn  of  thine  or  cruel  jest 
To  passion  stirred  his  gentle  breast  ? 
Speak  truty,  Queen,  that  I  may  know 
What  cause  has  changed  the  monarch  so.' 

Thus  by  the  high  •  sou  led  prince  addressed, 
Of  Kagbu's  sons  the  chief  and  best, 
She  cast  all  ruth  and  shame  aside, 
And  bold  with  greedy  words  replied  : 
4  Not  wrath,  O  Kama,  stirs  the  king, 
Nor  misery  stabs  with  sudden  sting  ; 
One  thought  that  fills  his  soul  has  he, 
But  dares  not  speak  for  fear  of  thee. 
Thou  art  so  dear,  his  lips  refrain 
From  words  that  might  his  darling  pain. 
But  thou,  as  duty  bids,  must  still 
The  promise  of  thy  sire  fulfil. 
He  who  to  me  in  days  gone  by 
Touch safed  a  boon  with  honours  high, 
Dares  now,  a  king,  his  word  regret, 
And  caitiff-like  disowns  the  debt. 
The  lord  of  men  his  promise  gave 
To  grant  the  boon  that  I  might  crave, 
And  now  a  bridge  would  idly  throw 
When  the  dried  stream  has  ceased  to  flow, 
His  faith  the  monarch  must  not  break 
In  wrath,  or  e'en  for  thy  dear  sake. 
From  faith,  as  well  the  righteous  know, 
Our  virtue  and  our  merits  flow. 
Now,  be  they  good  or  be  they  ill, 
Do  thou  thy  father's  words  fulfil : 
Swear  that  his  promise  shall  not  fail, 
And  I  will  tell  thee  all  the  tale. 
Yes,  Rama,  when  I  hear  that  thou 
Hast  bound  thee  by  thy  father's  vow, 
Then,  not  till  then,  my  lips  shall  speak, 
Nor  will  he  tell  what  boon  I  seek.' 

He  heard,  and  with  a  troubled  breast 
This  answer  to  the  queen  addressed  : 
*  Ah  me,  dear  lady,  canst  thou  deem 
That  words  like  these  thy  lips  beseem? 
I.  at  the  bidding  of  my  sire, 
Would  cast  my  body  to  the  fire, 
A  deadly  draught  of  poison  drink, 
Or  in  the  waves  of  ocean  eink: 
If  he  command,  it  shall  be  done,— 
My  father  and  my  king  in  one. 
Then  speak  and  let  me  know  the  thing 
So  longed  for  by  my  lord  the  king. 
It  shall  be  done  :  let  this  suffice  ; 
Ham a* ne'er  makes  a  promise  twice.' 

He  ended.    To  the  princely  youth 
Who  loved  the  right  and  spoke  the  truth, 
Cruel,  abominable  came 
The  answer  of  the  ruthless  dame  : 
'  When  Gods  and  Titans  fought  of  yore, 
Transfixed  with  darts  and  bathed  in  gore 
Two  boons  to  me  thy  father  gave 
For  the  dear  life  'twas  mine  to  save, 
Of  him  I  claim  the  ancient  debt, 
That  Bharat  on  the  throne  be  set, 


And  thou,  O  Rama,  go  this  day 
To  Dandakff orest  far  away. 
Now,  &ama,  if  thou  wilt  maintain 
Thy  father's  faith  without  a  stain, 
And  thine  own  truth  and  honour  clear, 
Then,  best  of  men,  my  bidding  hear. 
Do  thou  thy  father's  word  obey, 
Nor  from  the  pledge  he  gave  me  stray. 
Thy  life  in  Dandak  forest  spend 
Till  nine  long  years  and  five  shall  end. 
Upon  my  Bharat 's  princely  head 
Let  consecrating  drops  be  shed, 
With  all  the  royal  pomp  for  thee 
Made  ready  by  the  king's  decree. 
Seek  Dandak  forest  and  resign 
Rites  that  would  make  the  empire  thine. 
For  twice  seven  years  of  exile  wear 
The  coat  of  bark  and  matted  hair. 
Then  in  thy  stead  let  Bharat  reiga 
Lord  of  his  royal  sire's  domain, 
Rich  in  the  fairest  gems  that  shine, 
Cars,  elephants,  and  steeds,  and  kine. 
The  monarch  mourns  thy  altered  fata 
And  vails  his  brow  compassionate  : 
Bowed  down  by  bitter  grief  he  lies 
And'dares  not  lift  to  thine  his  eyes. 
Obey  his  word  :  be  firm  and  brave, 
And  with  great  truth  the  monarch  save.' 

While  thus  with  cruel  words  she  spoke. 

No  grief  the  noble  youth  betrayed; 
But  forth  the  father's  anguish  broke, 

At  his  dear  Rama's  lot  dismayed. 


CANTO  XIX. 
RAMA'S  PROMISE. 

Calm  and  unmoved  by  threatened  woe 
The  noble  conqueror  of  the  foe 
Answered  the  cruel  words  she  spoke, 
Nor  quailed  beneath  the  murderous  stroke : 
'  Yea,  for  my  father's  promise  sake 
I  to  the  wood  my  way  will  take, 
And  dwell  a  lonely  exile  there 
In  hermit  dress  with  matted  hair. 
One  thing  alone  I  fain  would  learn. 
Why  is  the  king  this  day  so  stern  ? 
Why  is  the  scourge  of  foes  so  cold, 
Nor  gives  me  greeting  as  of  old  ? 
Now  let  not  anger  flush  thy  cheek  : 
Before  thy  face  the  truth  1  speak. 
In  hermit's  coat  with  matted  hail- 
To  the  wild  wood  will  I  repair. 
How  can  I  fail  his  will  to  do, 
Friend,  master,  grateful  sovereign  too  ? 
One  only  pang  consumes  my  breast, 
That  his  own  lips  have  not  expressed 
His  will,  nor  made  his  longing  known 
That  Bharat  should  ascend  the  throne. 


Vanto  XIX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


115 


l.\>  Bharat  I  would  yield  my  wife, 

My  realm  and  wealth,  mine  own  dear  life. 

Unasked  I  fain  would  yield  them  all ; 

More  gladly  at  my  father's  call, 

More  gladly  when  the  gift  may  free 

Bis  honour  and  bring  joy  to  thee. 

Ihus,  lady,  his  sad  heart  release 

From  the  sore  shame,  and  give  him  peace, 

But  tell  me,  O,  I  pray  thee,  why 

rhe  lord  of  men,  with  downcast  eye, 

Lies  prostrate  thus,  and  one  by  one 

Down  his  pale  cheek  the  tear-drops  run. 

Let  couriers  to  thy  father  speed 

On  horses  of  the  swiftest  breed, 

And,  by  the  mandate  of  the  king, 


To  Dandak's  pathless  wild  will  fare, 
For  twice  seven  years  an  exile  there.' 

When  Kama  thus  had  made  reply 
Kaikeyi's  heart  with  joy  beat  high. 
She,  trusting  to  the  pledge  she  held, 
The  youth's  departure  thus  impelled  : 
'  'Tis  well.    Be  messengers  despatched 
On  coursers  ne'er  for  fleetness  matched, 
To  seek  my  father's  home  and  lead 
My  Bharat  back  with  all  their  speed. 
And,  Rarna,  as  I  ween  that  thou 
Wilt  scarce  endure  to  linger  now, 
So  surely  it  were  wise  and  good 
This  hour  to  journey  to  the  wood. 
And  if,  with  shame  cast  down  and  weak, 
No  word  to  thee  the  king  can  speak. 
Forgive,  and  from  thy  mind  dismiss 
A  trifle  in  an  hour  like  this. 
But  till  thy  feet  in  rapid  haste 
Have  left  the  city  for  the  waste, 
And  to  the  distant  forest  fled, 
He  will  not  bathe  nor  call  for  bread.' 

*  Woe!  woe  1'  from  the  sad  monarch  burst, 
In  surging  floods  of  grief  immersed  ; 
Then  swooning,  with  his  wits  astray, 
Upon  the  gold-wrought  couch  he  Jay. 
And  Rama  raised  the  aged  king  : 
But  the  stern  queen,  unpitying, 
Checked  not  her  needless  words,  nor  spared 
The  hero  for  all  speed  prepared, 
But  urged  him  with  her  bitter  tongue 
Like  a  good  horse  with  lashes  stung. 
She  spoke  her  shameful  speech.    Serene 
He  heard  the  fury  of  the  queen, 
And  to  her  words  so  vile  and  dread 
Gently,  unmoved  in  mind,  he  said  : 
' 1  would  not  in  this  world  remain 
A  grovelling  thrall  to  paltry  gain, 
But  duty's  path  would  fain  pursue, 
True  as  the  saints  themselves  are  true. 
From  death  itself  I  would  not  fly 
My  father's  wish  to  gratify. 
What  deed  soe'er  his  loving  son 


May  do  to  please  him,  think  it  done. 
Amid  all  duties,  Queen,  I  count 
This  duty  first  and  paramount, 
That  sons,  obedient,  aye  fulfil 
Their  honoured  fathers'  word  and  will. 
Without  his  word,  if  thou  decree, 
Forth  to  the  forest  will  I  flee, 
And  there  shall  fourteen  years  be  spent 
Mid  lonely  wilds  in  banishment. 
Methinks  thou  couldst  not  hope  to  find 
One  spark  of  virtue  in  my  mind, 
If  thou,  whose  wish  is  still  my  lord, 
Hast  for  this  grace  the  king  implored, 
This  day  I  go,  but,  ere  we  part, 
Must  chew  my  Site's  tender  heart, 
To  my  dear  mother  bid  farewell ', 
Then  to  the  woods,  a  while  to  dwell. 
With  thee,  O  Queen,  the  care  must  rest 
That  Bharat  hear  his  sire's  behest, 
And  guard  the  land  with  righteous  sway, 
For  such  the  law  that  lives  for  aye.' 

In  speechless  woe  the  father  heard, 
Wept  with  loud  cries,  but  spoke  no  word* 
Then  Rama  touched  his  senseless  feet, 
And  hers,  for  honour  most  unmeet ; 
Round  both  his  circling  steps  he  bent, 
Then  from  the  bower  the  hero  went. 
Soon  as  he  reached  the  gate  he  found 
His  dear  companions  gathered  round. 
Behind  him  came  Sumitra's  child 
With  weeping  eyes  so  sad  and  wild. 
Then  saw  he  all  that  rich  array 
Of  vases  for  the  glorious  day. 
Round  them  with  reverent  steps  he  paced, 
Nor  vailed  his  eye,  nor  moved  in  haste. 
The  loss  of  empire  could  not  dim 
The  glory  that  encompassed  him. 
So  will  the  Lord  of  Cooling  Rays1 
On  whom  the  world  delights  to  gaze, 
Through  the  great  love  of  all  retain 
Sweet  splendour  in  the  time  of  wane. 
Now  to  the  exile's  lot  resigned 
He  left  the  rule  of  earth  behind  : 
As  though  all  worldly  cares  he  spurned 
No  trouble  was  in  him  discerned. 
The  chouries  that  for  kings  are  used, 
And  white  umbrella,  he  refused, 
Dismissed  his  chariot  and  his  men, 
And  every  friend  and  citizen. 
He  ruled 'his  senses,  nor  betrayed 
The  grief  that  on  his  bosom  weighed, 
And  thus  his  mother's  mansion  sought 
To  tell  the  mournful  news  he  brought. 
Nor  could  the  gay-clad  people  there 
Who  flocked  round  Rama  true  and  fair, 
One  sign  of  altered  fortune  trace 
Upon  the  splendid  hero's  face. 
Nor  had  the  chieftain,  mighty-armed, 
Lost  the  bright  look  all  hearts  that  charm  ed, 

i  The  Moon. 


116 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


As  e'en  from  autumn  moons  is  thrown 
A  splendour  which  is  all  their  own. 
With  his  sweet  voice  the  hero  spoke 
Saluting  all  the  gathered  folk, 
Then  righteous-souled  and  great  in  fame 
Close  to  his  mother's  house  he  came. 
Lakshman  the  brave,  his  brother's  peer 
In  princely  virtues,  followed  near, 
Sore  troubled,  but  resolved  to  show 
No  token  of  his  secret  woe. 
Thus  to  the  palace  Rama  went 

Where  all  were  gay  with  hope  and  joy; 
But  well  he  knew  the  dire  event 

That  hope  would  mar,  that  bliss  destroy. 
So  to  his  grief  he  would  not  yield 

Lest  the  sad  change  their  hearts  might 

rend, 
And,  the  dread  tiding  unrevealed, 

Spared  from  the  bio  w  each  faithful  friend. 

CANTO  XX. 


KAUg ALGA'S  LAMENT. 

But  in  the  monarch's  palace,  when 
Sped' from  the  bower  that  lord  of  men, 
Up  from  the  weeping  women  went 
A  mighty  \vail  and  wild  lament  : 
•  Ah,  he  who  ever  freely  did 
His  duty  ere  his  sire  could  bid, 
Our  refuge  and  our  sure  defence, 
This  day  will  go  an  exile  hence. 
He  on  Kausalya  loves  to  wait 
Most  tender  and  affectionate, 
And  as  he  treats  his  mother,  thus 
From  childhood  has  he  treated  us. 
On  themes  that  sting  he  will  not  speak, 
And  when  reviled  is  calm  and  meek. 
He  soothes  the  angry,  heals  offence : 
He  goes  to-day  an  exile  hence. 
Our  lord  the  king  is  most  unwise, 
And  looks  on  life  with  doting  eyes, 
Who  in  his  folly  casts  away 
The  world's  protection,  hope,  and  stay.' 
Thus  in  their  woe,  like  kine  bereaved 
Of  their  young  calves, l  the  ladies  grieved, 


1  The  comparison  may  to  a  European 
reader  seem  a  homely  one,  But  Spenser 
likens  an  infuriate  woman  to  a  cow 

'  Thatisberobbedof  her  youngling  dere.' 
Shakspeare  also  makes  King  Henry  VI. 
compare  himself  to  the  calf's  mother  that 

'Runs  lowing  up  and  down,  Looking 
the  way  her  harmless  young  one  went.' 
*  Cows,'  says  De  Quincey,  '  are  amongst 
the  gentlest  of  breathing  creatures  ;  none 
show  more  passionate  tenderness  to  their 
young,  when  deprived  of  them,  and,  in 
short,  I  am  not  ashamed  to  profess  a  deep 
love  for  these  gentle  creatures.' 


And  ever  as  they  wept  and  wailed 
With  keen  reproach  the  king  assailed. 
Their  lamentation,  mixed  with  tears, 
Smote  with  new  grief  the  monarch's  ears, 
Who,  burnt  with  woe  too  great  to  bear, 
Fell  on  his  couch  and  fainted  there. 

Then  Rama,  smitten  with  the  pain 
His  heaving  heart  could  scarce  restrain, 
Groaned  like  an  elephant  and  strode 
With  Lakshman  to  the  queen's  abode. 
A  warder  there,  whose  hoary  eld 
In  honour  high  by  all  was  held, 
Guarding  the  mansion,  sat  before 
The  portal,  girt  with  many  more. 
Swift  to  their  feet  the  warders  sprang, 
And  loud  the  acclamation  rang, 
Hail,  Rama  !  as  to  him  they  bent, 
Of  victor  chiefs  preeminent. 
One  court  he  passed,  and  in  the  next 
Saw,  masters  of  each  Veda  text, 
A  crowd  of  Brahmans,  good  and  sage, 
Dear  to  the  king  for  lore  and  age, 
To  these  he  bowed  his  reverent  head, 
Thence  to  the  court  beyond  he  sped. 
Old  dames  and  tender  girls,  their  care 
To  keep  the  doors,  were  stationed  there. 
And  all,  when  Rama  came  in  view, 
Delighted  to  the  chamber  flew, 
To  bear  to  Queen  Kausalya  s  ear 
The  tidings  that  she  loved  to  hear. 
The  queen,  on  rites  and  prayer  intent, 
In  careful  watch  the  night  had  spent, 
And  at  the  dawn,  her  son  to  aid, 
To  Vishnu  holy  offerings  made. 
Firm  in  her  vows,  serenely  glad, 
In  robes  of  spotless  linen  clad, 
As  texts  prescribe,  with  grace  implored, 
Her  offerings  in  the  fire  she  poured. 
Within  her  splendid  bower  he  came, 
And  saw  her  feed  the  sacred  flame 
There  oil,  and  grain,  and  vases  stood, 
With  wreaths,  and  curds,  and  cates,  and 

wood, 

And  milk,  and  sesamum,  and  rice, 
The  elements  of  sacrifice. 
She,  worn  and  pale  with  many  a  fast 
And  midnight  hours  in  vigil  past, 
In  robes  of  purest  white  arrayed, 
To  Lakshml  Queen  drink-offerings  paid. 
So  long  away,  she  flew  to  meet 

The  darling  of  her  soul  : 
So  runs  a  mare  with  eager  feet 

To  welcome  back  her  foal. 
He  with  his  firm  support  upheld 

The  queen,  as  near  she  drew, 
And,  by  maternal  love  impelled, 

Her  arms  around  him  threw. 
Her  hero  son,  her  matchless  boy 

She  kissed  upon  the  head  : 
She  blessed  him  in  her  pride  and  joy 
With  tender  words,  and  said  : 


Canto  XX. 


THE  RAMA? AN. 


117 


'  Be  like  thy  royal  sires  of  old, 
The  nobly  good,  the  lofty-souled  ! 
Their  lengthened  days  and  fame  be  thine, 
And  virtue,  as  beseems  thy  line ! 
The  pious  king,  thy  father,  see 
True  to  his  promise  made  to  thee : 
That  truth  thy  sire  this  day  will  show, 
And  regent's  power  on  thee  bestow.' 

She  spoke.    He  took  the  proffered  seat, 
And  as  she  pressed  her  son  to  eat, 
Raised  reverent  hands,  and,  touched  with 

shame, 

Made  answer  to  the  royal  dame  : 
'  Dear  lady,  thou  hast  yet  to  know 
That  danger  threats,  and  heavy  woe ; 
A  grief  that  will  with  sore  distress 
On  Sita,  thee,  and  Lakshman  press.- 
What  need  of  seats  have  such  as  I  ? 
This  day  to  Dandak  wood  I  fly. 
The  hour  is  come,  a  time,  unmeet 
For  silken  couch  and  gilded  seat. 
I  must  to  lonely  wilds  repair, 
Abstain  from  flesh,  and  living  there 
On  roots,  fruit,  honey,  hermit's  food, 
Pass  twice  seven  years  in  solitude.  ' 
To  Bharat's  hand  the  king  will  yield 
The  regent  power  I  thought  to  wield, 
And  me,  a  hermit,  will  he  send 
My  days  in  Dandak  wood  to  spend,1 

As  when  the  "woodman's  axe  has  lopped 
A  $al  branch  in  the  grove,  she  dropped  : 
So  from  the  skies  a  Goddess  falls 
Ejected  from  her  radiant  halls. 

When  Rama  saw  her  lying  low, 
Prostrate  by  too  severe  a  blow, 
Around  her  form  his  arms  he  wound 
And  raised  her  fainting  from  the  ground. 
His  hand  upheld  her  like  a  mare 
Who  feels  her  load  too  sore  to  bear, 
And  sinks  upon  the  way  o'ertoiled, 
And  all  her  limps  with  dust  are  soiled. 
He  soothed  her  in  her  wild  distress 
With  loving  touch  and  soft  caress. 
She,  meet  for  highest  fortune,  eyed 
The  hero  watching  by  her  side, 
And  thus,  while  Lakshman  bent  to  hear, 
Addressed  her  son  with  many  a  tear  : 
*  If,  Rama,  thou  had  ne'er  been  born 
My  child  to  make  thy  mother  mourn, 
Though  reft  of  joy,  a  childless  queen, 
Such  woe  as  this  I  ne'er  had  seen. 
Though  to  the  childless  wife  there  clings 
O.ne  sorrow  armed  with  keenest  stings, 
'No  child  have  I :  no  child  have  I,' 
No  second  misery  prompts  the  sigh. 
When  long  I  sought,  alas,  in  vain, 
My  husband's  love  and  bliss  to  gain, 
In  Rama  all  my  hopes  I  set 
And  dreamed  I  might  be  happy  yet. 
I,  of  the  consorts  first  and  best, 
Must  bear  my  rivals'  taunt  and  jest, 


And  brook,  though  better  far  than  they, 
The  soul  distressing  words  they  say. 
What  woman  can  be  doomed  to  pine 
In  misery  more  sore  than  mine, 
Whose  hopeless  days  must  still  be  spent 
In  grief  that  ends  not  and  lament  ? 
They  scorned  me  when  my  son  was  nigh  ; 
When  he  is  banished  I  must  die. 
Me,  whom  my  husband  never  prized, 
Kaikeyi's  retinue  despised 
With  boundless  insolence,  though  she 
Tops  not  in  rank  nor  equals  me. 
And  they  who  do  me  service  yet, 
Nor  old  allegiance  quite  forget, 
Whene'er  they  see  KaikeyiV  son, 
With  silent  lips  my  glances  shan. 
How,  O  my  darling,  shall  I  brook 
Bach  menace  of  Kaikeyi's  look, 
And  listen,  in  my  low  estate, 
To  taunts  of  one  so  passionate? 
For  seventeen  years  since  thou  wast  born 
I  sat  and  watched,  ah  me,  forlorn ! 
Hoping  some  blessed  day  to  see 
Deliverance  from  my  woes  by  thee. 
Now  comes  this  endless  grief  and  wrong1, 
So  dire  I  cannot  bear  it  long, 
Sinking,  with  age  and  sorrow  worn, 
Beneath  my  rivals'  taunts  and  scorn. 
How  shall  I  pass  in  dark  distress 
My  long  lone  days  of  wretchedness 
Without  my  Rama's  face,  as  bright 
As  the  full  moon  to  cheer  my  sight? 
Alas,  my  cares  thy  steps  to  train, 
And  fasts,  and  vows,  and  prayers  are  vain 
Hard,  hard,  I  ween,  must  be  this  heart 
To  bear  this  blow  nor  burst  apart, 
As  some  great  river  bank,  when  first 
The  floods  of  Rain-time  on  it  burst. 
No,  Fate  that  speeds  not  will  not  slay, 

Nor  Yama's  halls  vouchsafe  me  room, 
Or,  like  a  lion's  weeping  prey, 

Death  now  had  borne  me  to  my  doom. 
Hard  is  my  heart  and  wrought  of  steel 

That  breaks  not  with  the  crushing 

blow, 
Or  in  the  pangs  this  day  I  feel 

My  lifeless  frame  had  sunk  below. 
Death  waits  his  hour,  nor  takes  me  now  : 

But  this  sad  thought  augments  my  painj 
That  prayer  and  largess,  fast  and  vow, 

And  Heavenward  service  are  in  vain. 
Ah  me,  ah  me  1  with  fruitless  toil 

Of  rites  austere  a  child  I  sought : 
Thus  seed  cast  forth  on  barren  soil 

Still  lifeless  lies  and  comes  to  naught. 
If  ever  wretch  by  anguish  grieved 

Before  his  hour  to  death  had  fled, 
I  mourning,  like  a  cow  bereaved, 

Had  been  this  day  among  the  dead.' 


118 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  11. 


CANTO  XXI. 


KAUgALYA  CALMED. 

While  thus  Kausalya  wept  and  sighed. 

With  timely  words  sad  Lakshman  cried  : 

'O  honoured  Queen  I  like  it  ill 

That,  subject  to  a  woman's  will, 

Rama  his  royal  state  should  quit 

And  to  an  exile's  doom  submit. 

The  aged  king,  fond,  changed,  and  week, 

Will  as  the  queen  compels  him  speak. 

But  why  should  Rama  thus  be  sent 

To  the  wild  woods  in  banishment  ? 

No  least  offence  I  find  in  him, 

I  eee  no  fault  his  fame  to  dim. 

Not  one  in  all  the  world  I  know, 

Not  outcast  wretch,  not  secret  foe, 

Whose  whispering  lips  would  dare  assail 

His  spotless  life  with  slanderous  tale. 

Godlike  and  bounteous,  just,  sincere, 

E'en  to  his  very  foemen  dear  : 

Who  would  without  a  cause  neglect 

The  right,  and  such  a  son  reject  ? 

And  if  a  king  such  order  gave, 

In  second  childhood,  passion's  slave, 

What  son  within  his  heart  would  lay 

The  senseless  order,  and  obey? 

Come,  Rama,  ere  this  plot  be  known 

Stand  by  me  and  secure  the  throne. 

Stand  like  the  King  who  rules  below, 

Stand  aided  by  thy  brother's  bow : 

How  can  the  might  of  meaner  men 

Resist  thy  royal  purpose  then  ? 

My  shafts,  if  rebels  court  their  fate, 

Shall  lay  Ayodhya  desolate. 

Then  shall  her  streets  with  blood  be  dyed 

Of  those  who  stand  on  Bharat's  side  : 

None  shall  my  slaughtering  hand  exempt, 

For  gentle  patience  earns  contempt. 

If,  by  Kaikeyi's  counsel  changed, 

Our  father's  heart  be  thus  estranged, 

No  mercy  must  our  arm  restrain, 

But  let  the  foe  be  slain,  be  slain. 

For  should  the  guide,  respected  long, 

No  more  discerning  right  and  wrong, 

Turn  in  forbidden  paths  to  stray, 

'Tis  meet  that  force  his  steps  should  stay. 

What  power  sufficient  can  he  see, 

What  motive  for  the  wish  has  he, 

That  to  Kaikeyi  would  resign 

The  empire  which  is  justly  thine  ? 

Can  he,  O  conqueror  of  thy  foes, 

Thy  strength  and  mine  in  war  oppose? 

Can  he  entrust,  in  our  despite, 

To  Bharat's  hand  thy  royal  right  ? 

I  love  this  brother  with  the  whole 

Affection  of  my  faithful  soul. 

Yea  Queen,  by  bow  and  truth  I  swear, 

By  sacrifice,  and  gift,  aiid  prayer, 


If  Rama  to  the  forest  goes, 
Or  where  the  burning  furnace  glows, 
First  shall  my  feet  the  forest  tread, 
The  flames  shall  first  surround  my  head. 
My  might  shall  chase  thy  grief  and  tears, 
As  darkness  flies  when  morn  appears. 
Do  thou,  dear  Queen,  and  Rama  too 
Behold  what  power  like  mine  can  do. 
My  aged  father  I  will  kill, 
The  vassal  of  Kaikeyi's  will, 
Old,  yet  a  child,  the  woman's  thrall, 
Infirm,  and  base,  the  scorn  of  all.' 

Thus  Lakshman  cried, the  mighty-souled: 
Down  her  sad  cheeks  the  torrents  rolled, 
As  to  her  son  Kausalya  spake  ; 

'  Now  thou  hast  heard  thy  brother,  take 
His  counsel  if  thou  hold  it  wise, 
And  do  the  thing  his  words  advise. 
Do  not,  my  son,  with  tears  I  pray, 
My  rival's  wicked  word  obey, 
Leave  me  not  here  consumed  with  woe, 
Nor  to  the  wood,  an  exile,  go, 
If  thou,  to  virtue  ever  true, 
Thy  duty's  path  would  still  pursue, 
The  highest  duty  bids  thee  stay 
And  thus  thy  mother's  voice  obey. 
Ttius  Kasyap's  great  ascetic  son 
A  seat  among  the  Immortals  won : 
In  his  own  home,  subdued,  he  stayed, 
And  honour  to  his  mother  paid. 
If  reverence  to  thy  sire  be  due, 
Thy  mother  claims  like  honour  too, 
And  thus  I  charge  thee,  O  my  child, 
Thou  must  not  seek  the  forest  wild. 
Ah,  what  to  me  were  life  and  bliss, 
Condemned  my  darling  son  to  miss? 
But  with  my  Rama  near,  to  eat 
The  very  grass  itself  were  sweet. 
But  if  thou  still  wilt  go  and  leave 
Thy  hapless  mother  here  to  grieve, 
I  from  that  hour  will  food  abjure, 
Nor  life  without  my  son  endure. 
Then  it  will  be  thy  fate  to  dwell 
In  depth  of  world  detested  hell, 
As  Ocean  in  the  olden  time 
Was  guilty  of  an  impious  crime 
That  marked  the  lord  of  each  fair  flood 
As  one  who  spills  a  Brahman's  blood.'1 

Thus  spake  the  queen,  and  wept,  and 

sighed  ; 

Then  righteous  Rama  thus  replied  : 
*  1  have  no  power  to  slight  or  break 
Commandments  which  my  father  spake. 
I  bend  my  head,  dear  lady,  low, 
Forgive  me,  for  I  needs  must  go. 
Once  Kandu,  mighty  saint,  who  made 
His  dwelling  in  the  forest  shade, 

1  The  commentators  say  that,  in  a  former 
creation,  Ocean  grieved  his  mother  and 
suffered  in  consequence  the  pains  of  hell. 


Canto  XXL 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


119 


A  cow— and  duty's  claims  he  knew— 

Obedient  to  his  father,  slew. 

And  in  the  line  from  which  we  spring, 

When  ordered  by  their  sire  the  king, 

Through  earth  the  sons  of  Sagar  clsft, 

And  countless  things  of  life  bereft.1 

So  Jamadagni's  son55  obeyed 

His  sire,  when  in  the  wood  he  laid 

His  hand  upon  his  axe,  and  smote 

Through  Renuka  his  mother's  throat. 

The  deeds  of* these  and  more  beside, 

Peers  of  the  Gods,  my  steps  shall  guide, 

And  resolute  will  I  fill  til 

My  father's  word,  my  father's  will. 

Nor  I,  O  Queen,  unsanctioned  tread 

This  righteous  path,  by  duty  led  : 

The  road  my  footsteps  journey  o'er 

Was  traversed  by  the  great  of  yore. 

This  high  command  which  all  accept 

Shall  faithfully  by  me  be  kept, 

For  duty  ne'er  will  him  forsake 

Who  fears  his  sire's  command  to  break.' 

Thus  to  his  mother  wild  with  grief: 
Then  thus  to  Lakshman  spake  the  chief 
Of  those  by  whom  the  bow  is  bent, 
Mid  all  who  speak,  most  eloquent : 
*  I  know  what  love  for  me  thou  hast, 
What  firm  devotion  unsurpassed  : 
Tny  valour  and  thy  worth  I  know, 
And  glory  that  appals  the  foe. 
Blest  youth,  my  mother's  woe  is  great, 
It  bends  her  neath  its  matchless  weight : 
No  claims  will  she,  with  blinded  eyes, 
Of  truth  and  patience  recognize. 
For  duty  is  supreme  in  place, 
And  truth  is  duty's  noblest  base. 
Obedient  to  my  sire's  behest 
I  serve  the  cause  of  duty  best. 
For  man  should  truly  dp  whate'er 
To  mother,  Brahman,  sire,  he  sware : 
He  must  in  duty's  path  remain, 
Nor  let  his  word  be  pledged  in  vain. 
And,  O  my  brother,  how  can  I 
Obedience  to  this  charge  deny  ? 
Kaikeyi's  tongue  my  purpose  spurred, 
But  'twas  my  sire  who  gave  the  word. 
Cast  these  unholy  thoughts  aside 
Which  smack  of  war  and  Warriors'  pride; 
To  duty's  call,  not  wrath  attend, 
And  tread  the  path  which  I  commend.' 

Kama  by  fond  affection  moved 
His  brother  Lakshman  thus  reproved  ; 
Then  with  joined  hands  and  reverent  head 
Again  to  Queen  Kausalya  said: 

'  1  needs  must  go— do  thou  consent- 
To  the  wild  wood  in  banishment. 
O  give  me,  by  my  life  I  pray, 
Thy  blessing  ere  I  go  away. 


1  As  described  in  Book  I  Canto  XL. 
*  Paras uraina. 

y 


I,  when  the  promised  years  are  o'er, 

Shall  see  Ayodhya's  town  once  more. 

Then,  mother  dear,  thy  tears  restrain, 

Nor  let  thy  heart  be  wrung  by  pain  : 

In  time,  my  father's  will  obeyed, 

Shall  I  return  from  greenwood  shade. 

My  dear  Videhan,  thou,  and  I 

Lakshman,  Sumitra,  feel  this  tie, 

And  must  my  father's  word  obey, 

As  duty  bids  that  rules  for  aye. 

Thy  preparations  now  forgo, 

And  lock  within  thy  breast  thy  woe, 

Nor  be  my  pious  wish  withstood 

To  go  an  exile  to  the  wood.' 

Calm  and  unmoved  the  prince  explained 

His  duty's  claim  and  purpose  high, 
The  mother  life  and  sense  regained, 

Looked  on  her  son  and  made  reply  : 

*  If  reverence  be  thy  father's  due, 

The  same  by  right  and  love  is  mine : 
Go  not,  my  charge  I  thus  renew, 

Nor  leave  me  here  in  woe  to  pine, 
What  were  such  lonely  life  to  me, 

Rites  to  the  shades,  or  deathless  lot  ? 
More  dear,  my  son,  one  hour  with  thee 

Than  all  the  world  where  thou  art  not.' 
As  bursts  to  view,  when  brands  blaze  high, 

Some  elephant  concealed  by  night, 
So,  when  lie  heard  his  mother's  cry, 

Burnt  Kama's  grief  with  fiercer  might. 
Thus  to  the  queen,  half  senseless  still, 

And  Lakshman,  burnt  with  heart-felt 

pain, 
True  to  the  right,  with  steadfast  will, 

His  duteous  speech  he  spoke  again : 

*  Brother.  I  know  thy  loving  mind, 

Thy  valour  and  thy  truth  I  know, 
But  now  to  claims  of  duty  blind 

Thou  and  my  mother  swell  my  woe. 
The  fruits  of  deeds  in  human  life 

Make  love,  gain,  duty,  manifest, 
Dear  when  they  meet  as  some  fond  wife 

With  her  sweet  babes  upon  her  breast. 
But  man  to  duty  first  should  turn 

Whene'er  the  three  are  not  combined: 
For  those  who  heed  but  gain  we  spurn, 

And  those  to  pleasure  all  resigned. 
Shall  then  the  virtuous  disobey 

Hests  of  an  aged  king  and  sire, 
Though  feverous  joy  that  father  sway, 

Or  senseless  love  or  causeless  ire  ? 
I  have  no  power,  commanded  thus, 

To  slight  his  promise  and  decree: 
The  honoured  sire  of  both  of  us, 

My  mother's  lord  and  life  is  he. 
Shall  she,  while  yet  the  holy  king 

Is  living,  on  the  right  intent, — 
Shall  she,  like  some  poor  widowed  thing, 

Go  forth  with  me  to  banishment? 
Now.  mother,  speed  thy  parting  *on. 

And  let  thy  blessing  soothe  my  pain, 


12* 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


Boole  II. 


That  I  may  turn,  mine  exile  done, 

Like  Kkig  Yayati,  home  again. 
Fair  glory  and  the  fruit  she  gives, 

For  lust  of  sway  I  ne'er  will  slight : 
What,  for  the  span  a  mortal  lives, 

Were  rule  of  earth  without  the  right?' 
He  soothed  her  thus,  firm  to  the  last 

His  counsel  to  his  brother  told  : 
Then  round  the  queen  in  reverence  passed, 

And  held  her  in  his  loving  hold. 


CANTO  XXII. 
LAKSHMAN  CALMED. 

So  Bama  kept  unshaken  still 

His  noble  heart  with  iron  will. 

To  his  dear  brother  next  he  turned, 

Whose  glaring  eyes  with  fury  burned, 

Indignant,  panting  like  a  snake, 

And  thus  again  his  counsel  spake: 

*  Thine  anger  and  thy  grief  restrain, 

And  firm  in  duty's  path  remain. 

Dear  brother,  lay  thy  scorn  aside, 

And  be  the  right  thy  joy  and  pride. 

Thy  ready  zeal  and  thoughtful  care 

To  aid  what  rites  should  grace  the  heir, — 

These  'tis  another's  now  to  ask  ; 

Come,  gird  thee  for  thy  noble  task, 

That  Bharat's  throning  rites  may  be 

Graced  with  the  things  prepared  for  me. 

Arid  with  thy  gentle  care  provide 

That  her  fond  heart,  now  sorely  tried 

With  fear  and  longing  for  my  sake, 

With  doubt  and  dread  may  never  ache. 

To  know  that  thoughts  of  co/ning  ill 

One  hour  that  tender  bosom  fill 

With  agony  and  dark  despair 

Is  grief  too  great  for  me  to  bear. 

I  cannot,  brother,  call  to  mind 

One  wilful  fault  or  undesigned, 

When  I  have  pained  in  anything 

My  mothers  or  my  sire  the  king. 

The  right  my  father  keeps  in  view, 

In  promise,  word,  and  action  true  ; 

Let  him  then  all  his  fear  dismiss, 

Nor  dread  the  loss  of  future  bliss. 

He  fears  his  truth  herein  will  fail : 

Hence  bitter  thoughts  his  heart  assail. 

He  trembles  lest  the  rites  proceed, 

And  at  his  pangs  my  heart  should  bleed. 

So  now  this  earnest  wish  is  mine, 

The  consecration  to  resign, 

And  from  this  city  turn  away 

To  the  wild  wood  with  no  delay. 

My  banishment  to-day  will  free 

Kaikeyi  from  her  cares,  that  she, 

At  last  contented  and  elate, 

May  Bharat's  throning  celebrate. 


'hen  will  the  lady's  trouble  cease, 
hen  will  her  heart  have  joy  and  peace, 
iVhen  wandering  in  the  wood  I  wear 
Deerskin,  and  bark,  and  matted  hair, 
^or  shall  by  me  his  heart  be  grieved 
iVhose  choice  approved,  whose  mind  con- 
ceived 

'his  counsel  which  I  follow.   No, 
'orth  to  the  forest  will  I  go. 
Tis  Fate,  Sumitra's  son,  confess, 
'hat  sends  me  to  the  wilderness. 
Tis  Fate  alone  that  gives  away 
?o  other  hands  the  royal  sway. 
low  could  Kaikeyi's  purpose  bring 
3n  me  this  pain  and  suffering, 
Were  not  her  change  of  heart  decreed 
y  Fate  whose  will  commands  the  deed  ? 
know  my  filial  love  has  been 
Dhe  same  throughout  for  every  queen, 
And  with  the  same  affection  she 
las  treated  both  her  son  and  me. 
ier  shameful  words  of  cruel  spite 
To  stay  the  consecrating  rite, 
And  drive  me  banished  from  the  throne, — 
These  I  ascribe  to  Fate  alone, 
low  could  she,  born  of  royal  race, 
Whom  nature  decks  with  fairest  grace, 
Speak  like  a  dame  of  low  degree 
before  the  king  to  torture  me  ? 
But  Fate,  which  none  may  comprehend, 
To  which  all  life  must  bow  and  bend, 
[n  her  and  me  its  power  has  shown, 
Arid  all  my  hopes  are  overthrown. 
What  man,  Sumitra's  darling,  may 
Contend  with  Fate's  resistless  sway, 
Whose  all-commanding  power  we  find 
Our  former  deeds  alone  can  bind  1 
Our  life  and  death,  our  joy  and  pain, 
Anger  and  fear,  and  loss  and  gain, 
Each  thing  that  is,  in  every  state, 
All  is  the  work  of  none  but  Fate. 
E'en  saints,  inspired  with  rigid  zeal, 
When  once  the  stroke  of  Fate  they  feel, 
In  sternest  vows  no  more  engage, 
And  fall  enslaved  by  love  and  rage. 
So  now  the  sudden  stroke  whose  weight 
Descends  unlocked  for,  comes  of  Fate, 
And  with  unpitying  might  destroys 
The  promise  of  commencing  joys. 
Weigh  this  true  counsel  in  thy  soul  : 
With  thy  firm  heart  thy  heart  control  ; 
Then,  brother,  thou  wilt  cease  to  grieve 
For  hindered  rites  which  now  I  leave. 
So  cast  thy  needless  grief  away, 
And  strictly  my  commands  obey. 
These  preparations  check  with  speed, 
Nor  let  my  throning  rites  proceed. 
These  urns  that  stand  prepared  to  shed 
King-making  drops  upon  my  head, 
Shall  with  their  pure  lustrations  now 
Inaugurate  my  hermit's  vow. 


XXIII. 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


121 


Yet  what  have  I  to  do  with  things 
That  touch  the  state  and  pomp>f  .kings? 
These  hands  of  mine  shall  water  take 
To  sanctify  the  vow  I  make. 
Now  Lakshman,  let  thy  heart-  no  more 
My  fortune  changed  and  lost  deplore. 
A  forest  life  more  joys  may  bring 
Than  those  that  wait  upon  a  king. 
Now  though  her  arts  successful  mar 

My  consecrating  rite, 
Let  not  the  youngest  queen  too  far 

Thy  jealous  fear  excite. 
Nor  let  one  thought  suggesting  ill 

Upon  our  father  fall, 
But  let  thy  heart  remember  still 
That  Fate  is  lord  of  all.' 


. 


CANTO  XXIII. 
AKSH  MAN'S  ANGER. 


Thus  Rama  to  his  brother  said  ; 

And  Lakshman  bent  his  drooping  head. 

In  turns  by  grief  and  pride  impelled, 

A  middle  course  of  thought  he  held. 

Then  in  a  frown  of  anger,  bent 

His  brows  that  chief  most  excellent, 

And  like  a  serpent  in  his  hole, 

Breathed  fierce  and  fast  in  wrath  of  soul. 

His  threatening  brows  so  darkly  frowned, 

His  eyes  so  fiercely  glanced  around, 

They  made  his  glare,  which  none  might 

brook, 

Like  some  infuriate  lion's  look. 
Like  some  wild  elephant,  full  oft 
He  raised  and  shook  his  hand1  aloft. 
Now  turned  his  neck  to  left  and  right 
Now  bent,  now  raised  its  stately  height. 
Now  in  his  rage  that  sword  he  felt 
Which  mangling  wounds  to  foemen  dealt, 
With  sidelong  glance  his  brother  eyed, 
And  thus  in  burning  words  replied  : 
*  Thy  rash  resolve,  thy  eager  haste, 
Thy  mighty  fear,  are  all  misplaced : 
No  room  is  here  for  duty's  claim, 
No  cause  to  dread  the  people's  blame. 
Can  one  so  brave  as  thou  consent 
To  use,  a  coward's  argument  J 
The  glory  of  the  Warrior  race 
With  craven  speech  his  lips  debase  ? 
Can  one  like  thce  so  falsely  speak, 
Exalting  Fate,  confessed  so  weak  ?  ^ 
Canst  thou,  undoubting  still  restrain 
Suspicions  of  those  sinful  twain  ? 


1  The  Sanskrit  word  liasta  signifies  both 
hand,  and  the  trunk  of  'The  beast  that 
bears  between  his  eyes  a  serpent  for  a 
hand,' 


Canst  thou,  most  duteous,  fail  to  know 
Their  hearts  are  set  on  duty's  show  ? 
They  with  deceit  have  set  their  trains, 
And  now  the  fruit  rewards  their  pains, 
Had  they  not  long  ago  agreed, 

0  Rama,  on  this  treacherous  deed, 
That  promised  boon,  so  long  retained, 
He  erst  had  given  and  she  had  gained, 

1  cannot,  O  my  brother,  bear 
To  see  another  throned  as  heir 
With  rites  which  all  our  people  hate  : 
Then,  O,  this  passion  tolerate. 

This  vaunted  duty  which  can  guide 
Thy  steps  from  wisdom's  path  aside, 
And  change  the  counsel  of  thy  breast, 
O  lofty-hearted,  I  detest. 
Wilt  thou,  when  power  and  might  are 

thine, 

Submit  to  this  abhorred  design? 
Thy  father's  impious  hest  fulfil, 
That  vassal  of  Kaikeyi's  will ? 
But  if  thou  still  wilt  shut  thine  eyes, 
Nor  see  the  guile  herein  that  lies; 
My  soul  is  sad,  I  deeply  mourn, 
And  duty  seems  a  thing  to  scorn. 
Canst  thou  one  moment  think  to  please 
This  pair  who  live  for  love  and  ease, 
And  'gainst  thy  peace,  as  foes,  allied, 
With  tenderest  names  their  hatred  hide 
Now  if  thy  judgment  still  refers 
To  Fate  this  plot  of  his  and  hers, 
My  mind  herein  can  ne'er  agree  : 
And  O,  in  this  be  ruled  by  me. 
Weak,  void  of  manly  pride  are  they 
Who  bend  to  Fate's  imputed  sway : 
The  choicest  souls,  the  nobly  great 
Disdain  to  bow  their  heads  to  Fate. 
And  he  who  dares  his  Fate  control 
With  vigorous  act  and  manly  soul, 
Though  threatening  Fate  his  hopes  assail. 
Unmoved  through  all  need  never  quail. 
This  day  mankind  shall  learn  aright 
The  power  of  Fate  and  human  might, 
So  shall  the  gulf  that  lies  between 
A  man  and  Fate  be  clearly  seen. 
The  might  of  Fate  subdued  by  me 
This  hour  the  citizens  shall  see, 
Who  saw  its  intervention  stay 
Thy  consecrating  rites  to-day 
My  power  shall  turn  this  Fate  aside, 
That  threatens,  as,  with  furious  stride, 
An  elephant  who  scorns  to  feel, 
In  rage  unchecked,  the  driver's  steel. 
Not  the  great  Lords  whose  sleepless  might 
Protects  the  worlds,  shall  stay  the  rite 
Though  earth,  hell,  heaven  combine  their 

powers  : 

And  shall  we  fear  this  sire  of  ours  ? 
Then  if  their  minds  are  idly  bent 
To  doom  thee,  King,  to  banishment, 
I  Through  twice  seven  years  of  exile  they 


122 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


Shall  in  the  lonely  forest  stay. 

3  will  consume  the  hopes  that  fire 

The  queen  Kaikeyj  and  our  sire, 

That  to  her  son  this  check  will  bring 

Advantage,  making  Bharat  king. 

The  power  of  Fate  will  ne'er  withstand 

The  might  that  arms  my  vigorous  hand  ; 

If  danger  and  distress  assail, 

My  fearless  strength  will  still  prevail. 

A  thousand  circling  years  shall  flee  : 

The  forest  then  thy  home  shall  be, 

And  thy  good  sons,  succeeding,  hold 

The  empire  which  their  sire  controlled. 

The  royal  saints,  of  old  who  reigned, 

For  aged  kings  this  rest  ordained: 

These  to  their  sons  their  realm  commit 

That  they,  like  sires,  may  cherish  it. 

O  pious  soul,  if  thou  decline 

The  empire  which  is  justly  thine, 

Lest,  while  the  king  distracted  lies, 

Disorder  in  the  state  should  rise, 

I,— or  no  mansion  may  I  find 

In  worlds  'to  hero  souls  assigned,— 

The  guardian  of  thy  realm  will  be, 

As  the  sea-bank  protects  the  sea. 

Then  cast  thine  idle  fears  aside  : 

With  prosperous  rites  be  sanctified. 

The  lords  of  earth  may  strive  in  vain  : 

My  power  shall  all  their  force  restrain. 

My  pair  of  arms,  my  warrio'rs  bow 

Are  not  for  pride  of  empty  show  : 

For  no  support  these  shafts  were  made  ; 

And  binding  up  ill  suits  my  blade  : 

To  pierce  the  foe  with  deadly  breach — 

This  is  the  work  of  all  and  each. 

But  small,  methinks,  the  love  I  show 

For  him  I  count  my  mortal  foe. 

Soon  as  my  trenchant  steel  is  bare, 

Flashing  its  lightning  through  the  air, 

I  heed  no  foe,  nor  stand  aghast 

Though  Indra's  self  the  levin  cast. 

Then  shall   the  ways  be  hard  to  pass, 

Where  chariots  lie  in  ruinous  mass  ; 

When  elephant  and  man  and  steed 

Crushed  in  the  murderous  onslaught  bleed 

And  legs  and  heads  fall,  heap  on  heap, 

Boneath  my  sword's  tremendous  sweep. 

Struck  by  my  keen  brand's  trenchant  blade 

Thine  enemies  shall  fall  dismayed, 

Like  towering  mountains  rent  in  twain, 

Or  lightning  clouds  that  burst  in  rain, 

Wnen  armed  with  brace  and  glove  1  stand 

And  take  my  trusty  bow  in  hand, 

Wno  then  shall  vaunt  his  might  ?  who  dare 

Count  h  m  a  man  to  meet  me  there? 

Then  will  I  loose  my  shafts,  and  strike 

Man,  elephant,  and  steed  alike  : 

At  one  shall  many  an  arrow  riy, 

And  many  a  foe  with  one  shall  die. 

This  day  the  world  my  power  shall  see, 

That  none  in  arms  can  rival  nie  : 


My  strength  the  monarch  shall  abase, 
And  set  thee,  lord,  in  lordliest  place. 
These  arms  which  breathe  the  sandal's 

S3ent, 

Which  golden  bracelets  ornament, 
These  hands  which  precious  gifts  bestow, 
Which  guard  the  friend  and  smite  the  foe, 
A  nobler  service  shall  assay, 
And  tight  in  Rfima's  cause  to-day, 
Che  robbers  of  thy  rights  to  stay, 
Speak,  brother,  tell  thy  foernan's  name 

Whom  I,  in  conquering  strife, 
May  strip  of  followers  and  fame, 

Of  fortune,  or  of  life. 
Say,  how  may  all  this  sea-girt  land 

Be  brought  to  own  thy  sway  : 
Thy  faithful  servant  here  I  stand 

To  listen  and  obey.' 
Then  strove  the  bride  of  Uaghu's  race 

Sad  Lakshinan's  heart  to  cheer, 
While  slowly  down  the  hero's  face, 

Unchecked,  there  rolled  a  tear. 
'  The  orders  of  my  sire,'  he  cried, 

'My  will  shall  ne'er  oppose  : 
I  follow  still,  whate'er  betide, 
The  path  which  duty  shows.' 


CANTO  XXIV. 


KAU^ALYA  CALMED. 

But  when  Kausaly£  saw  that  he 

Resolved  to  keep  his  sire's  decree, 

While  tears  and  sobs  her  utterance  broke, 

Her  very  righteous  speech  she  spoke  : 

'  Can  he,  a  stranger  yet  to  pain, 

Whose  pleasant  words  all  hearts  enchain, 

Son  of  the  king  and  me  the  queen, 

Live  on  the  grain  his  hands  may  glean  ; 

Can  he,  whose  slaves  and  menials  eat 

The  finest  cakes  of  sifted  wheat — 

Can  Rama  in  the  forest  live 

On  roots  and  fruit  which  woodlands  give  ; 

Who  will  believe,  who  will  not  fear 

When  the  sad  story  smites  his  ear, 

That  one  so  dear,  so  noble  held, 

Is  by  the  king  his  sire  expelled  ? 

Now  surely  none  may  Fate  resist, 

Which  orders  all  as  it  may  list, 

If,  Rama,  in  thy  strength  and  grace, 

The  woods  become  thy  dwelling-place. 

A  childless  mother  long  I  grieved, 

And  many  a  sigh  for  offspring  heaved, 

With  wistful  longing  weak  and  worn 

Till  thou  at  last,  my  son,  wast  born. 

Fanned  by  the  storm  of  that  desire 

Deep  in  my  soul  I  felt  the  tire, 

Whose  offerings  flowed  from  weeping  eyes, 

With  fuel  fed  of  groans  and  bigiis, 


Canto  XXIV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


123 


Wihile  round  the  flame  the  smoke  grew  hot 
Of  tears  because  thou  earnest  not. 
Now  reft  of  thee,  too  fiery  fierce 
The  flame  of  woe  my  heart  will  pierce, 
As,  when  the  days  of  spring  return, 
The  sun's  hot  beams  the  forest  burn. 
The  mother  cow  still  follows  near 
The  wanderings  of  her  youngling  dear, 
So  close  to  thine  my  feet  shall  be, 
Where'er  thou  goest  following  thee,' 

Rama,  the  noblest  lord  of  men, 
Heard  his  fond  mother's  speech,  and  then 
In  soothing  words  like  these  replied 
To  the  sad  queen  who  wept  and  sighed  : 
'  Nay,  by  Kaikeyi's  art  beguiled, 
When  I  am  banished  to  the  wild, 
If  thou,  my  mother,  also  fly, 
The  aged  king  will  surely  die. 
When  wedded  dames  their  lords  forsake, 
Long  for  the  crime  their  souls  shall  ache. 
Thou  must  not  e'en  in  thought  within 
Thy  bosom  frame  so  dire  a  sin. 
Long  as  Kakutstha's  son,  who  reigns 
Lord  of  the  earth,  in  life  remains, 
Thou  must  with  love  his  will  obey  : 
This  duty  claims,  supreme  for  aye. 
Yes,  mother,  thou  and  I  must  be 
Submissive  to  my  sire's  decree, 
King,  husband,  sire  is  he  confessed, 
The  lord  of  all,  the  worthiest. 
I  in  the  wilds  my  days  will  spend 
Till  twice  seven  years  have  reached  an  end, 
Then  with  great  joy  will  come  again, 
And  faithful  to  thy  hests  remain.' 

Kausalya,  by  her  son  addressed, 
With  love  and  passion  sore  distressed, 
Afflicted,  with  her  eyes  bedewed, 
To  Rama  thus  her  speech  renewed  : 

'  Nay,  Rama,  but  my  heart  will  break 
If  with  these  queens  my  home  I  make, 
Lead  me  too  with  thee  ;  let  me  go 
And  wander  like  a  woodland  roe.' 

Then,  while  no  tear  the  hero  shed, 
Thus  to  the  weeping  queen  he  said  : 
'  Mother,  while  lives  the  husband,  he 
Is  woman's  lord  and  deity. 
O  dearest  lady,  thou  and  I 
Our  lord  and  king  must  ne'er  deny; 
The  lord  of  earth  himself  have  we 
Our  guardian  wise  and  friend  to  be. 
And  Bharat,  true  to  duty's  call, 
Whose  sweet  words  take  the  hearts  of  all, 
Will  serve  thee  well,  and  ne'er  forget 
The  virtuous  path  before  him  set. 
Be  this,  I  pray,  thine  earnest  care, 
That  the  old  king  my  father  ne'er, 
When  I  have  parted  hence,  may  know, 
Grieved  for  his  son,  a  pang  of  woe. 
Let  not  this  grief  his  soul  distress, 
To  kill  him  with  the  bitterness. 
Wth  duteous  care,  in  erery  thing, 


Love,  comfort,  cheer  the  aged  king. 
Though,  best  of  womankind,  a  spouse 
Keeps  firmly  all  her  fasts  and  vows, 
Nor  yet  her  husband's  will  obeys, 
She  treads  in  sin's  forbidden  ways. 
She  to  her  husband's  will  who  bends 
Goes  to  high  bliss  that  never  ends, 
Yea,  though  the  Gods  have  found  in  her 
^  o  reverential  worshipper. 
Bent  on  his  weal,  a  woman  still 
Must  seek  to  do  her  husband's  will : 
For  Scripture,  custom,  law  uphold 
This  duty  Heaven  revealed  of  old. 
Honour  true  Brahmans  for  my  sake, 
And  constant  offerings  duly  make, 
With  fire-oblations  and  with  flowers, 
To  all  the  host  of  heavenly  powers. 
Look  to  the  coming  time,  and  yearn 
For  the  glad  hour  of  my  return, 
And  still  thy  duteous  course  pursue, 
Abstemious,  humble,  kind,  and  true. 
The  highest  bliss  shalt  thou  obtain 
When  I  from  exile  come  again, 
If,  best  of  those  who  keep  the  right, 
The  king  my  sire  still  see  the  light.' 

The  queen,  by  Rama  thus  addressed, 
Still  with  a  mother's  grief  oppressed, 
While  her  long  eyes  with  tears  were  dim, 
Began  once  more  and  answered  him  : 
*  Not  by  my  pleading  may  be  stayed 
The  firm  resolve  thy  soul  has  made. 
My  hero,  thou  wilt  go  ;  and  none 
The  stern  commands  of  Fate  may  shun. 
Go  forth,  dear  child  whom  naught  can  bend 
And  may  all  bliss  thy  steps  attend. 
Thou  wilt  return,  and  that  dear  day 
Will  clia;-e  mine  every  grief  away, 
Thou  wilt  return,  thy  duty  done, 
Thy  vows  discharged,  high  glory  won  ; 
From  filial  debt  wilt  thou  be  free, 
And  sweetest  joy  will  come  on  me. 
My  son,  the  will  of  mighty  Fate 
At  every  time  mu^t  dominate, 
If  now  it  drives  thee  hence  to  stray 
Heedless  of  me  who  bid  thee  stay. 
Go,  strong  of  arm,  go  forth,  my  boy, 
Go  forth,  again  to  come  with  joy, 
And  thine  expectant  mother  cheer 
With  those  sweet  tones  she  loves  to  hear. 
O  that  the  blessed  hour  were  nigh 
When  th  >u  shalt  glad  this  anxious  eye, 
With  matted  hair  and  hermit  dress 
Returning  from  the  wilderness.' 
Kausalya's  conscious  soul  approved, 

As  her  proud  glance  she  bent 
On  Rama  constant  and  unmoved, 

Resolved  on  banishment. 
Such  words,  with  happy  omens  fraught 

To  her  dear  son  she  said, 
Invoking  with  each  eager  thought 
A  blessing  on  his  bead. 


121 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  ll 


CANTO  XXV. 


KAtgALYA'S  BLESSING. 

Her  grief  and  woe  she  cast  aside, 
Her  lips  with  water  purified, 
And  thus  her  benison  began 
That  mother  of  the  noblest  man  : 
« If  thou  wilt  hear  no  words  of  mine, 
Go  forth,  thou  pride  of  Raghu's  line. 
Go,  darling,  and  return  with  speed, 
Walking  where  noble  spirits  lead. 
JVlay  virtue  on  thy  steps  attend, 
And  be  her  faithful  lover's  friend. 
May  Those  to  whom  thy  vows  are  paid 
In  temple  and  in  holy  shade, 
With  all  the  mighty  saints  combine 
To  keep  that  precious  life  of  thine. 
The  arms  wise  Visvamitra1  gave 
Thy  virtuous  soul  from  danger  save. 
Long  be  thy  life  :  thy  sure  defence 
Shall  be  thy  truthful  innocence, 
And  that  obedience,  naught  can  tire, 
To  me  thy  mother  and  thy  sire. 
May  fanes  where  holy  fires  are  fed, 
Altars  with  grass  and  fuel  spread, 
Each  sacrificial  ground,  each  tree, 
Bock,  lake,  and  mountain,  prosper  thee. 
Let  old  Viraj,2  and  Him  who  made 
The  universe,  combine  to  aid  ; 
Let  Indra  and  each  guardian  Lord 
Who  keeps  the  worlds,  their  help  afford, 
And  be  thy  constant  friend  the  Sun, 
Lord  Pusha,  Bhaga,  Aryaman.3 
Fortnights  and  seasons,  nights  and  days. 
Years,  months,  and  hours,  protect  thy  ways, 
Vrihaspati  shall  still  be  nigh, 
The  War-God,  and  the  Moon  on  high, 
And  Narad*  and  the  sainted  seven5 
Shall  watch  thee  from  their  starry  heaven 
The  mountains,  and  the  seas  which  ring 
The  world,  and  Varuna  the  King, 
Sky,  ether,  and  the  wind,  whate'er 
Moves  not  or  moves,  for  thee  shall  care. 
Each  lunar  mansion  be  benign, 
With  happier  light  the  planets  shine; 
All  gods,  each  light  in  heaven  that  glows 
Potect  my  child  where'er  he  goes. 
The  twilight  hours,  the  day  and  night, 
Keep  in  the  wood  thy  steps  aright. 
Watch,  minute,  instant,  as  they  flee, 
Shall  all  bring  happiness  to  thee. 


Celestials  and  the  Titan  brood 
^rotect  thee  in  thy  solitude, 
And  haunt  the  mighty  wood  to  bless 
The  wanderer  in  his  hermit  dress. 
?ear  not,  by  mightier  guardians  screened, 
The  giant  or  night-roving  fiend  ; 
^or  let  the  cruel  race  who  tear 
Man's  flesh  for  food  thy  bosom  scare. 
Far  be  the  ape,  the  scorpion's  sting, 
Fly,  gnat,  and  worm,  and  creeping  thing. 
Thee  shall  the  hungry  lion  spare, 
The  tiger,  elephant,  and  bear  : 
Safe  from  their  furious  might  repose, 
Safe  from  the  horned  buffaloes, 
Each  savage  thing  the  forests  breed, 
That  love  on  human  flesh  to  feed, 
Shall  for  my  child  its  rage  abate, 
When  thus  'its  wrath  I  deprecate. 
Blest  be  thy  ways :  may  sweet  success 
The  valour  of  my  darling  bless. 
To  all  that  Fortune  can  bestow, 
Go  forth,  my  child,  my  Rama,  go. 
Go  forth,  O  happy  in  the  love 
Of  all  the  Gods  below,  above  ; 
And  in  those  guardian  powers  confide 
Thy  paths  who  keep,  thy  steps  who  guide. 
May  dukra,1  Yama,  Sun,  and  Moon, 
And  He  who  gives  each  golden  boon,3 
Won  by  mine  earnest  prayers,  be  good 
To  thee,  my  son,  in  Dandak  wood. 
Fire,  wind,  and  smoke,  each  text  and  spell 
From  mouths  of  holy  seers  that  fell, 
Guard  Rama  when  his  limbs  he  dips, 
Or  with  the  stream  makes  pure  his  lips ! 
May  the  great  saints  and  He,  the  Lord 
Who  made  the  worlds,  by  worlds  adored, 
And  every  God  in  heaven  beside 
My  banished  Rama  keep  and  guide.' 

Thus  with  due  praise  the  long-eyed  dame, 
Ennobled  by  her  spotless  fame, 
With  wreaths  of  flowers  and  precious  scent 
Worshipped  the  Gods,  most  reverent. 
A  high-souled  Brahman  lit  the  fire, 
And  offered,  at  the  queen's  desire, 
The  holy  oil  ordained  to  burn 
For  Rama's  weal  and  safe  return. 
Kausalya,  best  of  dames,  with  care 
Set  oil,  wreaths,  fuel,  mustard,  there. 
Then  when  the  rites  <  f  fire  had  ceased, 
For  Rama's  bliss  and  health,  the  priest, 
Standing  without,  gave  what  remained 
In  general  offering,3  as  ordained. 


i  See  p.  41, 

»  The  first  progeny  of  Brahma,  or  Brah 
m&  himself. 

3  These  are  three  names  of  the  Sun, 

«  See  p.  1. 

5  The  saints  who  form  the  constellation 
of  Ursa  Major. 


i  The  regent  of  the  planet  Venus. 

*  Kuvera. 

3  Bali,  or  the  presentation  of  food  to  all 
created  beings,  is  one  of  the  five  great  sa- 
craments of  the  Hindu  religion  :  it  consists 
in  throwing  a  small  parcel  of  the  offering, 
Ghee,  or  rice,  or  the  like,  into  the  open  air 
at  the  back  of  the  house* 


Canto  XX  VI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


125 


Dealing  among  the  twico-born  train 
Honey,  and  curds,  and  oil,  and  grain, 
He  bade  each  heart  and  voice  unite 
To  bless  the  youthful  anchorite. 
Then  Kama's  mother,  glorious  dame 
Bestowed,  to  meet  the  Brahman's  claim, 
A  lordly  fee  for  duty  done  ; 
And  thus  again  addressed  her  son  : 

'Such  blessings  as  the  Gods  o'erjoyed 
Poured  forth,  when  Vritra1  was  destroyed, 
On  Indra  of  the  thousand  eyes, 
Attend,  my  child,  thine  enterprise ! 
Yea,  such  as  Vinata  once  gave 
To  King  Suparna2  swift  and  brave, 
Who  sought  the  drink  that  cheers  the  skies, 
Attend,  my  child,  thine  enterprise  I 
Yea,  such  as,  when  the  Amrit  rose,3 
And  Indra  slew  his  Daitya  foes, 
The  royal  Aditi  bestowed 
On  Him  whose  hand  with  slaughter  glowed 
Of  that  dire  brood  of  monstrous  size, 
Attend,  my  child,  thine  enterprise  1 
E'en  such  as  peerless  Vishnu  graced, 
When  with  his  triple  step  he  paced, 
Outbursting  from  the  dwarf's  disguise,4 
Attend,  my  child,  thine  enterprise  ! 
Floods,  isles,  and  seasons  as  they'fly, 
Worlds,  Vedas,  quarters  of  the  sky, 
Combine,  O  mighty-armed,  to  bless 
Thee  destined  heir  of  happiness!' 

The  long-eyed'lady  ceased  :  she  shed 
Pure  scent  and  grain  upon  his  head. 
And  that  prized  herb  whose  sovereign  power 
Preserves  from'dark  misfortune's  hour, 
Upon  the  hero's  arm  she  set, 
To  be  his  faithful  amulet, 
While  holy  texts  she  murmured  low, 
And  spoke  glad  words  though  crushed  by 

woe. 

Concealing  with  obedient  tongue 
The  pangs  with  which  her  heart  was  wrung. 
She  bent,  she  kissed  his  brow,£she  pressed 
Her  darling  to  her  troubled  breast : 
'Firm  in  thy  purpose,  go,'  she  cried, 
"Go  Kama,  and  may  bliss  betide. 
Again  returning  safe  and  well, 
Triumphant  in  Ayodhya  dwell. 
Then  shall  my  happy  eyes  behold 
The  empire  by  thy  will  controlled. 
Then  grief  and  care  shall  leave  no  trace, 
Joy  shall  light  up  thy  mother's  face, 
And  I  shall  see  my  darling  reign, 
In  moonlike  glory  come  again. 
These  eyes  shall  fondly  gaze  on  thee 
So  faithful  to  thy  sire's  decree, 


When  thou.  the  forest  wild  shalt  quit 
On  thine  ancestral  throne  to  ait. 
Yea,  thou  shalt  turn  from  e'xile  back, 
Nor  choicest  blessings  ever  lack, 
Then  fill  with  rapture  eter  new 
My  bosom  and  thy  consort's  too. 
To  &Ya  and  the  heavenly  host 

My  worship  has  been  paid, 
To  mighty  saint,  to  godlike  ghost, 

To  every  wandering  shade. 
Forth  to  the  forest  thou  wilt  hie, 

Therein  to  dwell  so  long : 
Let  all  the  quarters  of  the  sky 

Protect  my  child  from  wrong.' 
Her  blessings  thus  the  queen  bestowed  ; 

Then  round  him  fondly  paced, 
And  often,  while  her  eyes  o'erflowed, 

Her  dearest  son  embraced. 
Kausalya's  honoured  feet  he  pressed, 

As  round  her  steps  she  bent, 
And  radiant  with  her  prayers  that  blessed, 
To  Sita's  home  he  went. 


CANTO  XXVI. 


I1  In  mythology,  a  demon  slain  by  Indra. 
*;  2  Called  also  Garud,  the  King  of  the 
birds,  offspring  of  Vinata.  See  p.  53. 

a  See  p.  56, 

*  See  p.  43. 


ALONE  WITH  SFTA'. 

So  Rama,  to  his  purpose  true, 

To  Queen  Kausalya  bade  adieui, 

Received  the  benison  she  gave, 

And  to  the  path  of  duty  clave. 

As  through  the  crowded  street  he  passed, 

A  radiance  on  the  way  he  cast, 

And  each  fair  grace,  by  all  approved, 

The  bosoms  of  the  people  moved. 

Now  of  the  woeful  change  no  word 
The  fair  Videhan  bride  had  heard  ; 
Tho  thought  of  that  imperial  rite 
Still  filled  her  bosom  with  delight. 
With  grateful  heart  and  joyful  thought 
The  Gods  in  worship  she 'had  sought, 
And,  well  in  royal  duties  learned, 
Sat  longing  till  her  lord  returned. 
Not  all  unmarked  by  grief  and  shame 
Within  his  sumptuous  home  he  came, 
And  hurried  through  the  happy  crowd 
With  eye  dejected,  gloomy-browed. 
Up  Sita  sprang,  and  every  limb  ^ 
Trembled  with  fear  at  sight  of  him. 
She  marked  that  cheek  where  anguish  fed, 
Those  senses  care-disquieted. 
For,  when  he  looked  on  her,  no  more 
Could  hie  heart  hide  the  load  it  bore, 
Nor  could  the  pious  chief  control 
The  paleness  o'er  his  cheek  that  stole. 
His  altered  cheer,  his  brow  bedewed 
With  clammy  drops,  his  grief  she  viewed, 
And  cried,  consumed  with  fires  of  woe, 
4  What,  O  my  lord,  has  changed  thee  so  ? 


126 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool  11. 


Vrihaspati  looks  down  benign, 
And  the  moon  rests  in  Pushya's  sign, 
As  Brahmans  sage  this  day  declare  : 
Then  whence,  my  lord,  this  grief  and  care 
Why  does  no  canopy,  like  foam 
For  its  white  beauty,  shade  thee  home, 
Its  hundred  ribs  spread  wide  to  throw 
Splendour  on  thy  fair  head  below  ? 
Where  are  the  royal  fans,  to  grace 
The  lotus  beauty 'of  thy  face, 
Fair  as  the  moon  or  wild-swan's  wing, 
And  waving  round  the  new-made  king? 
Why  do  no  sweet-toned  bards  rejoice 
To  hail  thee  with  triumphant  voice? 
No  tuneful  heralds  love  to  raise 
Loud  music  in  their  monarch's  praise  ? 
Why  do  no  Brahmans,  Scripture-read, 
Pour  curds  and  honey  on  thy  head, 
Anointed,  as  the  laws  ordain, 
With  holy  rites,  supreme  to  reign  ? 
WThere  are  the  chiefs  of  every  guild? 
Where  are  the  myriads  should  have  filled 
The  streets,  and  followed  home  their  king 
With  merry  noise  and  triumphing? 
Why  does  no  gold-wrought  chariot  lead 
With  four  brave  horses,  best  for  speed  ? 
No  elephant  precede  the  crowd 
Like  a  huge  hill  or  thunder  cloud, 
Marked  from  his  birth  for  happy  fate, 
Whom  signs  auspicious  decorate  ? 
Why  does  no  henchman,  young  and  fair, 
Precede  thee,  and  delight  to  bear 
Entrusted  to  his  reverent  hold 
The  burthen  of  thy  throne  of  gold  ? 
Why,  if  the  consecrating  rite 
Be  ready,  why  this  mournful  plight? 
Why  do  I  see  this  sudden  change, 
This  altered  mien  so  sad  and  strange?' 

To  her,  as  thus  she  weeping  cried, 
Raghu's  illustrious  son  replied  : 

*Sita,  my  honoured  sire's  decree 
Commands  me  to  the  woods  to  llee. 

0  high-born  lady,  nobly  bred 

Jn  the  good  paths  thy  footsteps  tread, 
Hear,  Janak's  daughter,  while  I  tell 
The  story  as  it  all  befell. 
Of  old  my  father  true  and  brave 
Two  boons  to  Queen  Kaikeyi  gave. 
Through  these  the  preparations  made 
For  me  to-day  by  her  are  stayed, 
For  he  is  bound  to  disallow 
This  promise  by  that  earlier  vow. 
In  Dandak  forest  wild  and  vast 
IVlust  fourteen  years  by  me  be  passed. 
My  father's  will  makes  Bharat  heir, 
The  kingdom  and  the  throne  to  share. 
Now,  ere  the  lonely  wild  I  seek, 

1  come  once  more  with  thee  to  speak. 
In  'Bharat's  presence,  O  my  dame, 
Ne'er  speak  with  pride  of  Kama's  name  : 
Another's  eulogy  to  hear 


Is  hateful  to  a  monarch's  ear. 

Thou  rnut-t  with  love  his  rule  obey 

To  whom  my  father  yields  the  sway. 

With  love  and  sweet  observance  learn 

His  grace,  and  more  the  king's,  to  earn. 

Now,  that  my  father  may  not  break 

The  words  of  promise  that  he  spake, 

To  the  drear  wood  my  steps  are  bent : 

Be  firm,  good  Sita,  and  content. 

Through  all  that  time, my  blameless  spouse, 

Keep  well  thy  fasts  and  holy  vows. 

Kise  from  thy  bed  at  break  of  day, 

And  to  the  Gods  due  worship  pay. 

With  meek  and  lowly  love  revere 

The  lord  of  men,  my  father  dear, 

And  reverence  to  Kausalya,  show, 

My  mother,  worn  with  eld  and  woe : 

By  duty's  law,  O  best  of  dames, 

High  worship  from  thy  love  she  claims. 

Nor  to  the  other  queens  refuse 

Observance,  rendering  each  her  dues: 

By  love  and  fond  attention  shown 

They  are  my  mothers  like  mine  own. 

Let  Bharat  and  j&atrughua  bear 

In  thy  sweet  love  a  special  share  : 

Dear  as  my  life,  O  let  them  be 

Like  brother  and  like  son  to  thee. 

In  every  word  and  deed  refrain 

From  aught  that  Bharat's  soul  may  pain: 

He  is  Ayodhy;Vs  king  and  mine, 

Tire  head  and  lord  of  all  our  line. 

For  those  who  serve  and  love  them  much 

With  weariless  endeavour,  touch 

And  win  the  gracious  hearts  of  kings. 

While  wrath  from  disobedience  springs. 

Great  inonarchs  from  their  presence  send 

Their  lawful  sons  who  still  offend, 

And  welcome  to  the  vacant  place 

Good  children  of  an  alien  race. 

Then,  best  of  women,  rest  thou  here, 

And  Bharat's  will  with  love  revere. 

Obedient  to  thy  king  remain, 

And  still  thy  vows  of  truth  maintain. 

To  the  wide  wood  my  steps  1  bend  : 
Make  thou  thy  dwelling  here  ; 

See  that  thy  conduct  ne'er  offend> 
And  keep  my  words,  my  dear.' 

CANTO  XXYI1. 


SITA'S  SPEECH. 

HTis  sweetly-speaking  bride,  who  best 
Deserved  her  lord,  he  thus  addressed. 
Then  tender  love  bade  passion  wake, 
And  thus  the  fair  Videhan  spake  : 
What  words  are  these  that  thou  hast  said? 
Contempt  of  me  the  thought  has  bred, 
)  best  of  heroes,  ]  dismiss 
With  bitter  scorn  a  speech  like  this : 


Canto  XXV III. 


•THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


127 


Unworthy  of  a  warrior's  fame 

It  taints  a  monarch's  -son  with  shame, 

Ne'er  to  be  heard  from  those  who  know 

The  science  of  the  sword  and  bow. 

My  lord,  the  mother,  sire,  and  son 

Receive  their  lots  by  merit  won  ; 

The  brother  and  the  daughter  find 

The  portions  to  their  deeds  assigned. 

The  wife  alone,  whate'er  await, 

Must  share  on  earth  her  husband's  fate. 

So  now  the  king's  command  which  sends 

Thee  to  the  wild,  to  me  extends. 

The  wife  can  find  no  refuge,  none, 

In  father,  mother,  self,  or  son  : 

Both  here,  and  when  they  vanish  hence, 

Her  husband  is  her  sole  (iefence. 

If,  Fiaghu's  son,  thy  steps  are  led 

Where  Dandak's  pathless  wilds  are  spread, 

My  feet  before  thine  own  shall  pass 

Through  tangled  thorn  and  matted  grass. 

Dismiss  thine  anger  and  thy  doubt : 

Like  refuse  water  cast  them  out, 

And  lead  me,  O  my  hero,  hence — 

I  know  not  sin — with  confidence. 

Whate'er  his  lot,  'tis  far  more  sweet 

To  follow  still  a  husband's  feet 

Than  in  rich  palaces  to  lie, 

Or  roam  at  pleasure  through  the  sky. 

My  mother  and  my  sire  have  taught 

What  duty  bids,  and  trained  each  thought, 

Nor  have  I  now  mine  ear  to  turn 

The  duties  of  a  wife  to  learn. 

I'll  seek  with  thee  the  woodland  dell 

And  pathless  wild  where  no  men  dwell, 

Where  tribes  of  silvan  creatures  roam, 

And  many  a  tiger  makes  his  home. 

My  life  shall  pass  as  pleasant  there 

As  in  my  father's  palace  fair. 

The  worlds  shall  wake  no  care  in  me  ; 

My  only  care  be  truth  to  thee. 

There  while  thy  wish  I  still  obey, 

True  to  my  vows  with  thee  I'll  stray, 

And  there  shall  blissful  hours  be  spent 

In  woods  with  honey  redolent. 

In  forest  shades  thy  mighty  arm 

Would  keep  a  stranger's  life  from  harm, 

And  how  shall  Sita,  think  of  fear 

When  thou,  O  glorious  lord,  art  near? 

Heir  of  high  bliss,  my  choice  is  made, 

Nor  can  I  from  my  will  be  stayed. 

Doubt  riot;  the  earth  will  yield  me  roots, 

These  will  I  eat,  and  woodland  fruits  ; 

And  as  with  thee  I  wander  there 

I  will  not  bring  thee  grief  or  care, 

I  long,  when  thou,  wise  lord,  art  nigh, 

All  fearless,  with  delighted  eye 

To  gaze  upon  the  rocky  hill, 

The  lake,  the  fountain,  and  the  rill ; 

To  sport  with  thee,  my  limbs  to  cool, 

In  some  pure  lily-covered  pool, 

While  the  white  swan's  and  mallard's  wings 


Are  plashing  in  the  water-springs. 
So  would  a  thousand  seasons  flee 
Like  one  sweet  day,  if  spent  with  thee. 
Without  my  lord  1  would  not  prize 
A  home  with  Gods  above  the  skies  : 
Without  my  lord,  my  life  to  bless, 
Where  could  be  heaven  or  happiness  ? 
Forbid  me  not :  with  thee  1  go 
The  tangled  wood  to  tread. 
There  will  I  live  with  thee,  as  though 

This  roof  were  o'er  my  head. 
My  will  for  thine  shall  be  resigned  ; 

Thy  feet  my  steps  shall  guide. 
Thou,  only  thou,  art  in  my  mind : 

I  heed  not  all  beside. 
Thy  heart  shall  ne'er  by  me  be  grieved; 

Do  not  my  prayer  deny  : 
Take  me,  dear  lord  ;  of  thee  bereaved 

Thy  Sita  swears  to  die.' 
These  words  the  duteous  lady  spake, 

Nor  would  he  yet  conseut 
His  faithful  wife  with  him  to  take 

To  share  his  banishment. 
He  soothed  her  with  his  gentle  speech ; 

To  change  her  will  he  strove  ; 
And  much  he  said  the  woes  to  teach 
Of  those  in  wilds  who  rove. 


CANTO  XXVIII. 


THE  DANGERS  OF  THE  WOOD. 

Thus  Sit£  spake,  and  he  who  knew 
His  duty,  to  its  orders  true, 
Was  still  reluctant  as  the  woes 
Of  forest  life  before  him  rose. 
He  sought  to  soothe  her  grief,  to  dry 
The  torrent  from  each  brimming  eye, 
And  then,  her  firm  resolve  to  shake, 
These  words  to  pious  hero  spake  ; 

'  O  daughter  of  a  noble  line, 
Whose  steps  from  virtue  ne'er  decline, 
Remain,  thy  duties  here  pursue, 
As  my  fond  heart  would  have  thee  do. 
Now  hear  me,  Sita,  fair  and  weak, 
And  do  the  words  that  I  shall  speak. 
Attend  and  hear  while  I  explain 
Each  danger  in  the  wood,  each  pain. 
Thy  lips  have  spoken  :  I  condemn 
The  foolish  words  that  fell  from  them, 
This  senseless  plan,  this  wish  of  thine 
To  live  a  forest  life,  resign. 
The  names  of  trouble  and  distress 
Suit  well  the  tangled  wilderness. 
In  the  wild  wood  no  joy  I  know, 
A  forest  life  is  naught  but  woe. 
The  lion  in  his  moutain  cave 
Answers  the  torrents  as  they  rave, 
And  forth  his  voice  of  terror  throws  : 
The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 


128 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  II. 


There  mighty  monsters  fearless  play, 

And  in  their  maddened  onset  slay 

The  hapless  wretch  who  near  them  goes  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

'  Tis  hard  to  ford  each  treacherous  flood, 

So  thick  with  crocodiles  and  mud, 

Where  the  wild  elephants  repose  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

Or  far  from  streams  the  wanderer  strays 

Through  thorns  and  creeper- tangled  ways, 

While  round  him  many  a  wild-cock  crows  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

On  the  cold  ground  upon  a  heap 

Of  gathered  leaves  condemned  to  sleep, 

Toil- wearied,  will  his  eyelids  close  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

Long  days  and  nights  must  he  content 

His  soul  with  scanty  aliment, 

What  fruit  the  wind  from  branches  blows  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

O  Sita,  while  his  strength  may  last, 

The  ascetic  in  the  wood  must  fast, 

Coil  on  his  head  his  matted  hair, 

And  bark  must  be  his  only  wear. 

To  Gods  and  spirits  day  by  day 

The  ordered  worship  he  must  pay, 

And  honour  with  respectful  care 

Each  wandering  guest  who  meets  him  there. 

The  bathing  rites  he  ne'er  must  shun 

At  dawn,  at  noon,  at  set  of  sun, 

Obedient  to  the  law  he  knows  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

To  grace  the  altar  must  be  brought 

The  gift  of  flowers  his  hands  have  sought — 

The  debt  each  pious  hermit  owes : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

The  devotee  muist  be  content 

To  live,  severely  abstinent, 

On  what  the  chance  of  fortune  shows  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes, 

Hunger  afflicts  him  evermore  : 

The  nights  are  black,  the  wild  winds  roar  ; 

And  there  are  dangers  worse  than  those : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

There  creeping  things  in  every  form 

Infest  the  earth,  the  serpents  swarm, 

And  each  proud  eye  with  fury  glows  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

The  snakes  that  by  the  rives  hide 

In  sinuous  course  like  rivers  glide, 

And  line  the  path  with  deadly  foes  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

Scorpions,  and  grasshoppers,  and  flies 

Disturb  the  wanderer  as  he  lies. 

And  wake  him  from  his  troubled  doze  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

Trees,  thorny  bushes,  intertwined, 

Their  branches'  ends  together  bind, 

And  dense  with  grass  the  thicket  grows : 

The  wood,  my  dear,  is  full  of  woes, 

With  many  ills  the  flesh  is  tried, 


When  these  and  countless  fears  beside 
Vex  those  who  in  the  wood  remain  : 
The  wilds  are  naught  but  grief  and  pain. 
Hope,  anger  must  be  cast  aside, 
To  penance  eveiy  thought  applied  ; 
No  fear  must  be  of  things  to  fear  : 
Hence  is  the  wood  for  ever  drear. 
Enough,  my  love :  thy  purpose  quit : 
For  forest  life  thou  art  not  fit. 
As  thus  I  think  on  all,  I  see 
The  wild  wood  is  no  place  for  thee.' 


CANTO  XXIX. 


SrTA',S  APPEAL. 

Thus  Rama  spake.  Her  lord's  address 

The  lady  heard  with  deep  distress, 

And,  as  the  tear  bedimmed  her  eye, 

In  soft  low  accents  made  reply  : 

'  The  perils  of  the  wood,  and  all 

The  woes  thou  countest  to  appal, 

Led  by  my  love  I  deem  not  pain  ; 

Each  woe  a  charm,  each  loss  a  gain. 

Tiger,  and  elephant,  and  deer, 

Bull,  lion,  buffalo,  in  fear, 

Soon  as  thy  matchless  form  they  see, 

With  every  silvan  beast  will  flee. 

With  thee,  O  Rama,  I  must  go : 

My  sire's  command  ordains  it  so. 

Bereft  of  thee,  my  lonely  heart 

Must  break,  and  life  and  I  must  part. 

While  thou,  O  mighty  lord,  art  nigh, 

Not  even  He  who  rules  the  sky, 

Though  He  is  strongest  of  the  strong, 

With  all  his  might  can  do  me  wrong. 

Nor  can  a  lonely  woman  left 

By  her  dear  husband  live  bereft. 

In  my  great  love,  my  lord,  I  ween, 

The  truth  of  this  thou  mayst  have  seen. 

In  my  sire's  palace  long  ago 

1  heard  the  chief  of  those  who  know, 

The  truth-declaring  Brahmans,  tell 

My  fortune,  in  the  wood  to  dwell. 

I  heard  their  promise  who  divine 

The  future  by  each  mark  and  sign, 

And  from  that  hour  have  longed  to  lead 

The  forest  life  their  lips  decreed. 

Now,  mighty  Rama,  I  must  share 

Thy  father's  doom  which  sends  thee  there  ; 

In  this  I  will  not  be  denied, 

But  follow,  love,  where  thou  shalt  guide. 

0  husband,  I  will  go  with  thee, 
Obedient  to  that  high  decree. 

Now  let  the  Brahmans'  words  be  true, 
For  this  the  time  they  had  in  view. 

1  know  full  well  the  wood  has  woes  ; 
But  they  disturb  the  lives  of  those 
Who  in  "the  forest  dwell,  nor  hold 
Their  rebel  senses  well  controlled. 


Canto  XXX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


129 


In  my  sire's  halls,  ere  I  was  wed, 

I  heard  a  dame  who  begged  her  bread 

Before  my  mother's  face  relate 

What  griefs  a  forest  life  await. 

And  many  a  time  in  sport  I  prayed 

To  seek  with  thee  the  greenwood  shade, 

For  O,  my  heart  on  this  is  set, 

To  follow  thee,  dear  anchoret. 

May  blessings  on  thy  life  attend  : 

I  long  with  thee  my  steps  to  bend, 

For  with  such  hero  as  thou  art 

This  pilgrimage  enchants  my  heart 

Still  close,  my  lord,  to  thy  dear  side 

My  spirit  will  be  punned : 

Love  from  all  sin  my  soul  will  free  ; 

My  husband  is  a  God  to  me. 

So,  love,  with  thee  shall  I  have  bliss 

And  share  the  life  that  follows  this. 

I  heard  a  Brahman,  dear  to  fame, 

This  ancient  Scripture  text  proclaim : 

'  The  woman  whom  on  earth  below 

Her  parents  on  a  man  bestow, 

And  lawfully  their  hands  unite 

With  water  and  each  holy  rite, 

She  in  this  world  shall  be  his  wife, 

His  also  in  the  after  life.' 

Then  tell  me,  O  beloved,  why 

Thou  wilt  this  earnest  prayer  deny, 

Nor  take  me  with  thee  to  the  wood, 

Thine  own  dear  wife  so  true  and  good. 

But  if  thou  wilt  not  take  me  there 

Thus  grieving  in  my  wild  despair, 

To  fire  or  water  I  will  fly, 

Or  to  the  poisoned  draught,  and  die.' 

So  thus  to  share  his  exile,  she 
Besought  him  with  each  earnest  plea, 
Nor  could  she  yet  her  lord  persuade 
To  take  her  to  the  lonely  shade. 
The  answer  of  the  strong-armed  chief 
Smote  the  Videhan's  soul  with  grief, 
And  from  her  eyes  the  torrents  came 
Bathing  the  bosom  of  the  dame. 

CANTO  XXX. 

THE  TRIUMPH  OF  LOVE. 

The  daughter  of  Videha's  king, 
While  Rama  strove  to  soothe  the  sting 
Of  her  deep  anguish,  thus  began 
Once  more  in  furtherance  of  her  plan  : 
And  with  her  spirit  sorely  tried 
By  fear  and  anger,  love  and  pride, 
With  keenly  taunting  words  addressed 
Her  hero  of  the  stately  breast : 
'  Why  did  the  king  my  sire,  who  reigns 
O'er  fair  Videha's  wide  domains, 
Hail  Rama  son  with  joy  unwise, 
A  woman  in  a  man's  disguise  ? 


Now  falsely  would  the  people  say, 
By  idle  fancies  led  astray, 
That  Rama's  own  are  power  and  might, 
As  glorious  as  the  Lord  of  Light. 
Why  sinkest  thou  in  such  dismay  ? 
What  fears  upon  thy  spirit  weigh, 
That  thou,  O  Rama,  fain  wouldst  flee 
From  her  who  thinks  of  naught  but  thee? 
To  thy  dear  will  am  I  resigned 
In  heart  and  body,  soul  and  mind, 
As  Savitri  gave  all  to  one, 
Satyavan,  Dyumatsena's  son.1 
Not  e'en  in  fancy  can  I  brook 
To  any  guard  save  thee  to  look  : 
Let  meaner  wives  their  houses  shame, 
To  go  with  thee  is  all  my  claim. 
Like  some  low  actor,  deemst  thou  fit 
Thy  wife  to  others  to  commit— 
Thine  own,  espoused  in  maiden  youth, 
Thy  wife  so  long,  unblamed  for  truth  1 
Do  thou,  my  lord,  his  will  obey 
For  whom  thou  losest  royal  sway, 
To  whom  thou  wouldst  thy  wife  confide-* 
Not  me,  but  thee,  his  wish  may  guide. 
Thou  must  not  here  thy  wife  forsake, 
And  to  the  wood  thy  journey  make, 
Whether  stern  penance,  grief,  and  care, 
Or  rule  or  heaven  await  thee  there. 
Nor  shall  fatigue  my  limbs  distress 
When  wandering  in  the  wilderness  : 
Each  path  which  near  to  thee  I  tread 
Shall  seem  a  soft  luxurious  bed. 
The  reeds,  the  bushes  where  I  pass, 
The  thorny  trees,  the  tangled  grass 
Shall  feel,  if  only  thou  be  near, 
Soft  to  my  touch  as  skins  of  deer. 
When  the  rude  wind  in  fury  blows, 
And  scattered  dust  upon  me  throws, 
That  dust,  beloved  lord,  to  me 
Shall  as  the  precious  sandal  be. 
And  what  shall  be  more  blest  than  I, 
When  gazing  on  the  wood  I  lie 
In  some  green  glade  upon  a  bed 
With  sacred  grass  beneath  us  spread  ? 
The  root,  the  leaf,  the  fruit  which  thou 
Shalt  give  me  from  the  earth  or  bough, 
Scanty  or  plentiful,  to  eat, 
Shall  taste  to  me  as  Amrit  sweet. 
As  there  I  live  on  flowers  and  roots 
And  every  season's  kindly  fruits, 
I  will  not  for  my  mother  grieve, 
My  sire,  my  home,  or  all  I  leave. 
My  presence,  love,  shall  never  add 
One  pain  to  make  thy  heart  more  sad  ; 

1  The  story  of  Savitri,  told  in  the  Maha- 
bharat,  has  been  admirably  translated  by 
Riickert,  and  elegantly  epitomized  by  Mrs. 
Manning  in  India,  Ancient  and  Mediaeval, 
There  is  a  free  rendering  of  the  story  in 
Idylls  from  the  Sanskrit* 


130 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


I  will  not  cause  thee  grief  or  care, 
Nor  be  a  burden  hard  to  bear. 
With  thee  is  heaven,  where'er  the  spot ; 
Each  place  is  hell  where  thou  art  not. 
Then  go  with  me,  O  Rama  :  this 
Is  all  my  hope  and  all  my  bliss. 
If  thou  wilt  leave  thy  wife  who  still 
Entreats  thee  with  undaunted  will, 
This  very  day  shall  poison  close 
The  life  that  spurns  the  rule  of  foes. 
How,  after,  can  my  soul  sustain 
The  bitter  life  of  endless  pain, 
When  thy  dear  face,  my  lord,  I  miss  ? 
No,  death  is  better  far  than  this, 
Not  for  an  hour  could  I  endure 
The  deadly  grief  that  knows  not  cure, 
Far  less  a  woe  I  could  not  shun 
For  ten  long  years,  and  three,  and  one.' 
While  tires  of  woe  consumed  her,  such 
Her  sad  appeal,  lamenting  much  ; 
Then  with  a  wild  cry,  anguish -wrung, 
About  her  husband's  neck  she  olung. 
Like  some  she-elephant  who  bleeds 
Struck  by  the  hunter's  venomed  reeds, 
So  in  her  quivering  heart  she  felt 
The  many  wounds  his  speeches  dealt. 
Then,  as  the  spark  from  wood  is  gained,1 
Down  rolled  the  tear  so  long  restrained  : 
The  crystal  moisture,  sprung  from  woe, 
From  her  sweet  eyes  began  to  flow, 
As  runs  the  water  from  a  pair 
Of  lotuses  divinely  fair. 
And  Sita's  face  with  long  dark  eyes, 
Pure  as  the  moon  of  autumn  skies, 
Faded  with  weeping,  as  the  buds 
Of  lotuses  when  sink  the  floods. 
Around  his  wife  his  arms  he  strained, 
Who  senseless  from  her  woe  remained, 
And  with  sweet  words,  that  bade  her  wake 
To  life  again,  the  hero  spake  : 
*  I  would  not  with  thy  woe,  my  Queen, 
Buy  heaven  and  all  its  blissful  sheen. 
Void  of  all  fear  am  1  as  He, 
The  self -existent  God,  can  be. 
I  knew  not  all  thy  heart  till  now, 
Dear  lady  of  the  lovely  brow 
So  wished  not  thee  in  woods  to  dwell ; 
Yet  there  mine  arm  can  guard  thee  well. 
Now  surely  thou,  dear  love,  wast  made 
To  dwell  with  me  in  green  wood  shade. 
And,  as  a  high  saint's  tender  mind 
Clings  to  its  love  for  all  mankind, 
So  I  to  thee  will  ever  cling, 
Sweet  daughter  of  Videha's  king. 
The  good,  of  old,  0  soft  of  frame, 
Honoured  this  duty's  sovereign  claim, 
And  I  its  guidance  will  not  shun, 
True  as  light's  Queen  is  to  the  Sun, 


1  Fire  f  orsacrificial  purposes  is  produced 
by  the  attrition  of  two  pieces  of  wood, 


T  cannot,  pride  of  Janak's  line, 

This  journey  to  the  wood  decline  : 

My  sire's  behest,  the  oath  he  sware, 

The  claims  of  truth,  all  lead  me  there. 

One  duty,  dear  the  same  for  aye, 

Is  sire  and  mother  to  obey  : 

Should  I  their  orders  once  transgress 

My  very  life  were  weariness. 

If  glad  obedience  be  denied 

To  father,  mother,  holy  guide, 

What  rites,  what  service  can  be  done 

That  stern  Fate's  favour  may  be  won  ? 

These  three  the  triple  world  comprise, 

O  darling  of  the  lovely  eyes. 

Earth  has  nb  holy  thing  like  these 

Whom  with  all  love  men  seek  to  please. 

Not  truth,  or  gift,  or  bended  knee, 

Not  honour,  worship,  lordly  fee, 

Storms  heaven  and  wins  a  blessing  thence 

Like  sonly  love  and  reverence. 

Heaven,  riches,  grain,  and  varied  lore, 

With  sons  and  many  a  blessing  more, 

All  these  are  made  their  own  with  ease 

By  those  their  elders'  souls  who  please. 

The  mighty-souled,  who  ne'er  forget, 

Devoted  sons,  their  filial  debt, 

Win  worlds  where  Gods  and  minstrels  are, 

And  Brahma's  sphere  more  glorious  far. 

Now  as  the  orders  of  my  sire, 

Who  keeps  the  way  of  truth,  require, 

So  will  I  do,  for  such  the  way 

Of  duty  that  endures  for  aye  : 

To  take  thee,  love,  to  Dandak's  wild 

My  heart  at  length  is  reconciled, 

For  thee  such  earnest  thoughts  impel 

To  follow,  and  with  me  to  dwell. 

0  faultless  form  from  feet  to  brows, 

Come  with  me,  as  my  will  allows, 

And  duty  there  with  me  pursue, 

Trembler,  whose  bright  eyes  thrill  me 

through. 

In  all  thy  days,  come  good  come  ill, 
Preserve  unchanged  such  noble  will, 
And  thou,  dear  love,  wilt  ever  be 
The  glory  of  thy  house  and  me. 
Now,  beauteous-armed,  begin  the  tasks 
The  woodland  life  of  hermits  asks. 
For  me  the  joys  of  heaven  above 
Have  charms  no  more  without  thee,  love. 
And  now,  dear  Sita,  be  not  slow  : 
Food  on  good  mendicants  bestow, 
And  for  the  holy  Brahmans  bring 
Thy  treasures  and  each  precious  thing. 
Thy  best  attire  and  gems  collect, 
The  jewels  which  thy  beauty  decked, 
And  every  ornament  and  toy 
Prepared  for  hours  of  sport  and  joy : 
The  beds,  the  cars  wherein  I  ride, 
Among  our  followers,  next,  divide.' 

She  conscious  that  her  lord  approved 
Her  going,  with  great  rapture  moved, 


Canto  XXXI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


131 


Hastened  within,  without  delay, 
Prepared  to  give  their  wealth  away, 

CANTO  XXXI. 


LAKSHMAN'S  PRAYER. 

When  Lakshman,  who  had  joined  them 

there, 

Had  heard  the  converse  of  the  pair, 
His  mien  was  changed,  his  eyes  overflowed, 
His  breast  no  more  could  bear  its  load. 
The  son  of  Raghu,  sore  distressed, 
His  brother's  feet  with  fervour  pressed, 
While  thus  to  Sita  he  complained, 
And  him  by  lofty  vows  enchained  : 

*  If  thou  wilt  make  the  woods  thy  home, 
Where  elephant  and  roebuck  roam, 

I  too  this  day  will  take  my  bow 

And  in  the  path  before  thee  go. 

Our  way  will  lie  through  forest  ground 

Where  countless  birds  and  beasts  are  found. 

I  heed  not  homes  of  Gods  on  high, 

I  heed  not  life  that  cannot  die, 

Nor  would  I  wish,  with  thee  away, 

O'er  the  three  worlds  to  stretch  my  sway.' 

Thus  Lakshman    spake,    with    earnest 

prayer 

His  brother's  woodland  life  to  share. 
As  Rama  still  his  prayer  denied 
With  soothing  words,  again  he  cried: 
'When  leave  at  first  thou  didst  accord, 
Why  dost  thou  stay  me  now,  my  lord  ? 
Thou  art  my  refuge  :  0,  be  kind, 
Leave  me  not,  dear  my  lord,  behind. 
Thou  canst  not,  brother,  if  thou  choose 
That  I  still  live,  my  wish  refuse.' 

The  glorious  chief  his  speech  renewed 
To  faithful  Lakshman  as  he  sued, 
And  on  the  eyes  of  Rarna  gazed 
Longing  to  lead,  with  hands  upraised  : 
*  Thou  art  a  hero  just  and  dear, 
Whose  steps  to  virtue's  path  adhere, 
Loved  as  my  life  till  life  shall  end, 
My  faithful  brother  and  my  friend. 
If  to  the  woods  thou  take  thy  way 
With  Sita  and  with  me  to-day, 
Who  for  Kausalya  will  provide, 
And  guard  the  good  Sumitra's  side  ? 
The  lord  of  earth,  of  mighty  power, 
Who  sends  good  things  in  plenteous  shower. 
As  Indra  pours  the  grateful  rain, 
A  captive  lies  in  passion's  chain. 
!   The  power  imperial  for  her  son 
;   Has  As vapati's  daughter1  won, 

•  And  she,  proud  queen,  will  little  heed 
Her  miserable  rivals'  need. 


Kaikeyi. 


So  Bharat,  ruler  of  the  land, 
By  Queen  Kaikeyi's  side  will  stand, 
Nor  of  those  two  will  ever  think, 
While  grieving  in  despair  they  sink. 
Now,  Lakshman,  as  thy  love  decrees, 
Or  else  the  monarch's  heart  to  please, 
Follow  this  counsel  and  protect 
My  honoured  mother  from  neglect. 
So  thou,  while  not  to  me  alone 
'hy  great  affection  will  be  shown, 
^o  highest  duty  wilt  adhere 
*y  serving  those  thou  shouldst  revere, 
tfow,  son  of  Raghu,  for  my  sake 
Obey  this  one  request  I  make, 
Or,  of  her  darling  son  bereft, 
Kausalya  has  no  comfort  left.' 

The  faithful  Lakshman,  thus  addressed 
!n  gentle  words  which  love  expressed, 
L'o  him  in  lore  of  language  learned, 
rlis  answer,  eloquent,  returned  : 
'  Nay,  through   thy  might  each  queen 

will  share 
Attentive  Bharat's  love  and  care. 
Should  Bharat,  raised  as  king  to  sway 
This  noblest  realm,  his  trust  betray, 
N"or  for  their  safety  well  provide, 
Seduced  by  ill-suggesting  pride, 
Doubt  not  rny  vengeful  hand  shall  kill 
The  cruel  wretch  who  counsels  ill  — 
Kill  him  and  all  who  lend  him  aid, 
And  the  three  worlds  in  league  arrayed. 
And  good  Kausalya  well  can  fee 
A  thousand  champions  like  to  me. 
A  thousand  hamlets  rich  in  grain 
The  station  of  that  queen  maintain. 
She  may,  and  my  dear  mother  too, 
Live  on  this  ample  revenue. 
Then  let  me  follow  thee  :  herein  : 
Is  naught  that  may  resemble  sin. 
So  shall  I  in  my  wish  succeed, 
And  aid,  perhaps,  my  brother's  need. 
My  bow  and  quiver  well  supplied 
With  arrows  hanging  at  my  side, 
My  hands  shall  spade  and  basket  bear, 
And  for  thy  feet  the  way  prepare. 
I'll  bring  thee  roots  and  berries  sweet, 
And  woodland  fare  which  hermits  eat. 
Thou  shalt  with  thy  Videhan  spouse 
Recline  upon  the  mountain's  brows  ; 
Be  mine  the  toil,  be  mine  to  keep 
Watch  o'er  thee  waking  or  asleep.' 

Filled  by  his  speech  with  joy  and  pride* 
Rama  to  Lakshman  thus  replied: 
'  Go  then,  my  brother,  bid  adieu 
To  all  thy  friends  and  retinue. 
And  those  two  bows  of  fearful  might, 
Celestial,  which,  at  that  famed  rite, 
Lord  Varun  gave  to  Janak,  king 
Of  fair  Vedeha,  with  thee  bring, 
With  heavenly  coats  of  sword-proof  mail, 
Quivers,  whoae  arrows  never  fail, 


182 


THE  RAM  A?  AN. 


Boole  IT. 


And  golden-hilted  swords  so  keen, 
The  rivals  of  the  sun  in  sheen. 
Tended  with  care  these  arms  are  all 
Preserved  in  my  preceptor's  hall. 
With  speed,  O  Lakshman,  go,  produce, 
And  bring  them  hither  for  our  use.' 
So  on  a  woodland  life  intent, 
To  see  his  faithful  friends  he  went, 
And  brought  the  heavenly  arms  which  lay 
By  Rama's  teacher  stored  away. 
And  Raghu's  son  to  Rama  showed 
Those  wondrous  arms  which  gleamed  and 

glowed, 

Well  kept,  adorned  with  many  a  wreath 
Of  flowers  on  case,  and  hilt,  and  sheath. 
The  prudent  Kama  at  the  sight 
Addressed  his  brother  with  delight : 
'  Well  art  thou  come,  my  brother  dear. 
For  much  I  longed  to  see  thee  here. 
For  with  thine  aid,  before  I  go, 
I  would  my  gold  and  wealth  bestow 
Upon  the  Brahmans  sage,  who  school 
Their  lives  by  stern  devotion's  rule. 
Arid  for  all  those  who  ever  dwell 
Within  my  house  and  serve  me  well, 
Devoted  servants,  true  and  good, 
Will  I  provide  a  livelihood. 

Quick,  go  and  summon  to  this  place 
The  good  Vasishtha's  son, 

Suyajna,  of  the  Brahman  race 
The  h'rst  and  holiest  one, 

To  all  the  Brahmans  wise  and  good 
Will  I  due  reverence  pay, 

Then  to  the  solitary  wood 
With  thee  will  take  my  way.' 


CANTO  XXXII. 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  TREASURES, 

That  speech  so  noble  which  conveyed 
His  friendty  wish,  the  chief  obeyed. 
With  steps  made  swift  by  anxious  thought 
The  wise  Suyajna's  home  he  sought. 
Him  in  the  hall  of  Fire1  he  found, 
And  bent  before  him  to  the  ground: 
*  O  friend,  to  Rama's  house  return, 
Who  now  performs  a  task  most  stern.' 
He,  when  his  noonday  rites  were  done, 
Went  forth  with  fair'Sumitra's  son, 
And  came  to  Rama's  bright  abode 
Kich  in  the  love  which  Lakshmi  showed. 
The  son  of  Raghu,  with  his  dame. 
With  joined  hands  met  him  as  he  came, 
Showing  to  him  who  Scripture  knew 
The  worship  that  is  Agni's  due. 


1  The  chapel  where  the  sacred  lire  used 
in  worship  ia  kept. 


With  armlets,  bracelets,  collars,  rings, 
With  costly  pearls  on  golden  strings. 
With  many  a  gem  for  neck  and  limb 
The  son  of  Raghu  honoured  him. 
Then  Rama,  at  his  wife's  request, 
The  wise  Suyajna  thus  addressed*: 
'  Accept  a  necklace  too  to  deck 
With  golden  strings  thy  spouse's  neck. 
And  Sita  here,  my  friend,  were  glad 
A  girdle  to  her  gift  to  add. 
And  many  a  bracelet  wrought  with  care, 
And  many  an  armlet  rich  and  rare, 
My  wife  to  thine  is  fain  to  give, 
Departing  in  the  wood  to  live. 
A  bed  by  skilful  workmen  made, 
With  gold  and  various  gema  inlaid — 
This  too,  before  she  goen.  would  she 
Present,  O  saintly  friend,  to  thee. 
Thine  be  my  elephant,  so  famed, 
My  uncle's  present,  Victor  named; 
And  let  a  thousand  coins  of  gold, 
Great  Brahman,  with  the  gift  be  told.' 
Thus  Rama  spoke :  nor  he  declined 
The  noble  gifts  for  him  designed. 
On  Rama,  Lakshman,  Sita  he 
Invoked  all  high  felicity. 

In  pleasant  words  then  Rama  gave 
His  best  to  Lakshmau  prompt  and  brave, 
As  Brahma  speaks  for  Him  to  hear 
Who  rules  the  Gods'  celestial  sphere : 
'  To  the  two  best  of  Brahmans  run  ; 
Agastya  bring,  and  Kusik's  son, 
And  precious  gifts  upon  them  rain, 
Like  fostering  floods  upon  the  grain. 
O  long-armed  Prince  of  Raghu's  line, 
Delight  them  with  a  thousand  kine, 
And  many  a  fair  and  costly  gem, 
With  gold  and  silver,  give  to  them. 
To  him.  so  deep  in  Scripture,  who, 
To  Queen  Kausalya  ever  true, 
Serves  her  with  blessing  and  respect, 
Chief  of  the  Taittiriya  sect1  — 
To  him,  with  women-slaves,  present 
A  chariot  rich  with  ornament, 
And  costly  robes  of  silk  beside, 
Until  the  sage  be  satisfied. 
On  Chitraratha,  true  and  dear, 
My  tuneful  bard  and  charioteer, 
Gems,  robes,  and  plenteous  wealth  confer—- 
Mine ancient  friend  and  minister. 
And  these  who  go  with  staff  in  hand, 
Grrammariaus  trained,  a  numerous  band, 
Who  their  deep  study  only  prize, 
STor  think  of  other  exercise, 
Who  toil  not,  loving  dainty  fare, 
Whose  praises  e'en  the  good  declare — 
On  these  be  eighty  cars  bestowed. 
And  each  with  precious  treasures  load. 


1  The  students  amd  teachers  of  the  Tait- 
iriya  portion  of  the  Yajur  Veda, 


Canto  xxxnr. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


133 


A  thousand  bulls  for  them  suffice, 
Two  hundred  elephants  of  price, 
And  let  a  thousand  kine  beside 
The  dainties  of  each  meal  nrov7ide. 
The  throng  who  sacred  gi rales  wear, 
And  on  Kausalya  wait  with  care- 
A  thousand  golden  coins  shall  please, 
Son  of  Sumitra,  each  of  these. 
Let  all,  dear  Lakshman.  of  the  train 
These  special  gifts  of  honour  gain; 
IVIy  mother  will  rejoice  to  know 
Her  Brahmans  have  been  cherished  so.' 

Then  Raghu's  son  addressed  the  crowd 
Who  round  him  stood  and  wept  aloud, 
When  he  to  all  who  thronged  the  court 
Had  dealt  his  wealth  for  their  support: 

*  In  Lakshman's  house  and  mine  remain, 
And  guard  them  till  I  come  again.' 

To  all  his  people  sad  with  grief, 
In  loving  words  thus  spoke  their  chief, 
Then  bade  his  treasure-keeper  bring 
Gold,  silver,  and  each  precious  thing. 
Then  straight  the  servants  went  and  bore 
Back  to  their  chief  the  wealth  in  store, 
Before  the  people's  eyes  it  shone, 
A  glorius  pile  to  look  upon. 
The  prince  of  men  with  Lakshman's  aid 
Parted  the  treasures  there  displayed, 
Gave  to  the  poor,  the  young,  the  old, 
And  twice-born  men,  the  gems  and  gold. 

A  Brahman,  long  in  evil  case, 
Named  Trijat,  born  of  Garga's  race, 
Earned  ever  toiling  in  a  wood 
With  spade  and  plough  his  livelihood. 
The  youthful  wife,  his  babes  who  bore, 
Their  indigence  felt  more  and  more. 
Thus  to  the  aged  man  she  spake: 

*  Hear  this  my  word:  my  counsel  take. 
Come,  throw  thy  spade  and  plough  away; 
To  virtuous  Rain  a  go  to-day, 

And  somewhat  of  his  kindness  pray.' 
He  heard  the  words  she  spoke:  around 

His  limbs  his  ragged  cloth  he  wound, 

And  took  his  journey  by  the  road 

That  led  to  Rama's  fair  abode. 

To  the  fifth  court  he  made  his  way; 

Nor  met  the  Brahman  check  or  stay, 

Brighu,  Angiras1  could  not  be 

Brighter  with  saintly  light  than  he. 

To  Rama's  presence  on  he  pressed, 
i    And  thus  the  noble  chief  addressed : 
*  O  Rama,  poor  and  weak  am  I, 
And  many  children  round  me  cry. 
Scant  living  in  the  woods  I  earn : 
On  me  thine  eye  of  pity  turn.' 
And  Rama,  bent  on  sport  and  jest, 
The  suppliant  Brahman  thus  addressed : 


0  aged  man,  one  thousand  kine, 

fet  undistributed,  are  mine. 

?he  cows  on  thee  will  I  bestow 
As  far  as  thou  thy  staff  canst  throw.' 
The  Brahman  heard.    In  eager  haste 

Ie  bound  his  cloth  around  his  waist. 

Then  round  his  head  his  staff  he  whirled, 
And  forth  with  mightiest  effort  hurled. 

Dast  from  his  hand  it  flew,  and  sank 

To  earth  on  Sarju's  farther  bank, 

Vhere  herds  of  kine  in  thousands  fed 

!^ear  to  the  well -stocked  bullock  shed. 
And  all  the  cows  that  wandered  o'er 

The  meadow,  far  as  Sarju's  shore, 
At  Ramas  word  the  herdsmen  drove 

L'o  Trijat's  cottage  in  the  grove. 

ile  drew  the  Brahman  to  his  breast, 
And  thus  with  calming  words  addressed: 

Now  be  not  angry,  Sire,  I  pray : 
This  jest  of  mine  was  meant  in  play. 
These  thousand  kine,  but  not  alone. 
Their  herdsmen  too,  are  all  thine  own. 
And  wealth  beside  I  give  thee  :  speak, 
Thine  shall  be  all  thy  heart  can  seek.' 
Thus  Rama  spake.    And  Trijat  prayed 

For  means  his  sacrifice  to  aid. 

And  Rarna  gave  much  wealth,  required 

To  speed  his  offering  as  desired, 


CANTO  XXXIII. 


1  Two  of  the  ten  divine  personages  calle< 
Prajdpatis  and  Brakmddikas  who  wer 
first  created  by  Brahma. 


THE  PEOPLE'S  LAMENT. 

Thus  Sita  and  the  princes  brave 

Much  wealth  to  all  the  Brahmans  gave 

Then  to  the  monarch's  house  the  three 

Went  forth  the  aged  king  to  see. 

The  princes  from  two  servants  took 

Those  heavenly  arms  of  glorious  look, 

Adorned  with  garland  and  with  band 

By  Sita's  beautifying  hand. 

On  each  high  house  a  mournful  throng 

Had  gathered  ere  they  passed  along, 

Who  gazed  in  pure  unselfish  woe 

From,  turret,  roof,  and  portico. 

So  dense  the  crowd  that  blocked  the  ways, 

The  rest,  unable  there  to  gaze. 

Were  fain  each  terrace  to  ascend, 

And  thence  their  eyes  on  Kama  bend. 

Then  as  the  gathered  multitude 

On  foot  their  well-loved  R&ma  viewed, 

No  royal  shade  to  screen  his  head, 

Such  words,  disturbed  by  grief,  they  said: 

1  0  look,  our  hero,  wont  to  ride 

Leading  a  host  in  perfect  pride — 

Now  Lakshman,  sole  of  all  his  friends, 

With  Sitd  on  his  steps  attends. 

Though  he  has  known  the  sweets  of  power, 

And  poured  his  gifts  in  liberal  shower, 

From  duty's  path  he  waH  not  swerve, 


134 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


But  still  his  father's  truth  preserve. 
And  she  whose  form  so  soft  ami  fair 
Was  veiled  from  spirits  of  the  air. 
Now  walks  unsheltered  from  the  day, 
Seen  by  the  crowds  who  throng  the  way. 
Ah,  for  that  gently-nurtured  form! 
How  will  it  fade  with  sun  and  storm! 
How  will  the  rain,  the  cold,  the  heat 
Mar  fragrant  breast  and  tinted  feet! 
'Surely  some  demon  has  possessed 
His  sire,  and  speaks  within  his  breast, 
Or  how  could  one  that  is  a  king 
Thus  send  his  dear  son  wandering  ? 
It  were  a  deed  unkindly  done 
To  banish  e'en  a  worthless  son : 
But  what,  when  his  pure  life  has  gained 
Ihe  hearts  of  all,  by  love  enchained? 
Six  sovereign  virtues  join  to  grace 
Kama  the  foremost  of  his  race : 
Tender  and  kind  and  pure  is  he, 
Docile,  religious,  passion-free. 
Hence  misery  strikes  not  him  alone : 
In  bitterest  grief  the  people  moan, 
Like  creatures  of  the  stream,  when  dry 
In  the  great  heat  the  channels  lie. 
The  world  is  mournful  with  the  grief 
That  falls  on  its  beloved  chief, 
As,  when  the  root  is  hewn  away, 
Tree,  fruit,  and  flower,  and  bud  decay, 
The  soul  of  duty,  bright  to  see, 
He  is  the  root  of  you  and  me; 
And  all  of  us,  who  share  his  grief, 
His  branches,  blossom,  fruit,  and  leaf. 
Now  like  the  faithful  Lakshman,  we 
Will  follow  and  be  true  as  he; 
Our  wives  and  kinsmen  call  with  speed, 
And  hasten  where  our  lord  shall  lead. 
Yes,  we  will  leave  each  well-loved  spot, 
The  field,  the  garden,  and  the  cot, 
And.  sharers  of  his  weal  and  woe, 
Behind  the  pious  Rama  go. 
Our  houses,  empty  of  their  stores, 
Writh  ruined  courts  and  broken  doors, 
With  all  their  treasures' borne  away. 
And  gear  that  made  them  bright  and  gay: 
O'errun  by  rats,  with  dust  o'erspread, 
Shrines,  whence  the  deities  have  fled, 
Where  not  a  hand  the  water  pours, 
Or  sweeps  the  long-neglected  floors, 
No  incense  loads  the  evening  air. 
No  Brahmans  chant  the  text  and  prayer, 
No  tire  of  sacrifice  is  bright, 
No  gift  is  known,  no  sacred  rite; 
With  floors  which  broken  vessels  strew, 
As  if  our  woes  had  crushed  them  too — 
Of  these  be  stern  Kaikeyi  queen. 
And  rule  o'er  homes  where  we  have  been. 
The  wood  where  Kama's  feet  may  roam 
Shall  be  our  city  arid  our  home, 
And  this  fair  city  we  forsake, 
Our  flight  a  wilderness  shall  make. 


Each  serpent  from  his  hole  shall  hie, 
The  birds  and  beasts  from  mountain  fly, 
Lions  and  elephants  in  fear 
Shall  quit  the  woods  when  we  come  near, 
Yield  tiie  broad  wilds  for  us  to  range, 
And  take  our  city  in  exchange. 
With  Kama  will  we  hence,  content 
If,  where  he  is,  our  days  be  spent.' 

Such  were  the  varied  words  the  crowd 
Of  all  conditions  spoke  aloud. 
And  Kama  heard  their  speeches,  yet 
Changed  not  his  purpose  firmly  set. 
His  father's  palace  soon  he  neared, 
That  like  Kaiiasa's  hill  appeared. 
Like  a  wild  elephant  he  strode 
Right  onward  to  the  bright  abode. 
Within  the  palace  court  he  stepped, 
Where  ordered  bands  their  station  kept, 
And  saw  Sumaiitra  standing  near 
With  down-cast  eye  and  gloomy  cheer. 


CANTO  XXXIV. 


RAMA  IN  THE  PALACE. 

The  dark  incomparable  chief 
Whose  eye  was  like  a  lotus  leaf, 
Cried  to  the  mournful  charioteer, 
4  Go  tell  my  sire  that  I  am  here;' 

Sumantra,  sad  and  all  dismayed, 
The  chieftain's  order  swift  obeyed. 
Within  the  palace  doors  he  hied 
And  saw  the  king,  who  wept  and  sighed. 
Like  the  great  sun  when  wrapped  in  shade, 
Like  fire  by  ashes  overlaid, 
Or  like  a  pool  with  waters  dried, 
So  lay  the  world's  great  lord  and  pride. 
Awhile  the  wise  Sumantra  gazed. 
On  him  whose  senses  woe  has  dazed, 
Grieving  for  Kama.     Near  he  drew 
With  hands  upraised  in  reverence  due. 
With  blessing  first  his  king  he  hailed; 
Then  with  a  voice  that  well-nigh  failed, 
In  trembling  accents  soft  and  low 
Addressed  the  monarch  in  his  woe: 
*  The  prince  of  men,  thy  Kama,  waits 
To  see  thee  at  the  palace  gates. 
His  wealth  to  Brahmans  he  has  dealt, 
And  all  who  in  his  home  have  dwelt. 
Admit  thy  son.     His  friends  have  heard 
His  kind  farewell  and  parting  word. 
He  longs  to  see  thee  first,  and  then 
Will  seek  the  wilds,  O  King  of  men. 
He,  with  each  princely  virtue's  blaze, 
Shines  as  the  sun  engirt  by  rays.' 

The  truthful  king  who  loved  to  keep 
The  law.  profound  as  Ocean's  deep, 
And  stainless  as  the  dark  blue  .sky, 
Thus  to  Sumaiitra  made  reply  : 


Canto  XXX I V. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


135 


Go  then,  Sumantra,  go  and  call 
My  wives  and  ladies  one  and  all, 
3rawn  round  me  shall  they  fill  the  place 
When  1  behold  my  Kama's  face.' 

Quick  to  the  inner  rooms  he  sped, 
!Lnd  thus  to  all  the  women  said, 
Come,  at  the  summons  of  the  king  : 
Dome  all.  and  make  no  tarrying.' 

Their  husband's  word,  by  him  conveyed, 
3oon  as  they  heard,  the  dames  obeyed, 
knd  following  his  guidance  all 
Jame  thronging  to  the  regal  hall, 
[n  number  half  seven  hundred,  they, 
&11  lovely  dames,  in  long  array, 
With  their  bright  eyes  for  weeping  red, 
l"o  stand  round  Queen  Kau.salya,  sped. 
1'hey  gathered,  and  the  monarch  viewed 
One  moment  all  the  multitude, 
fhen  to  Sumantra  spoke  and  said  : 
'Now  let  my  son  be  hither  led.' 

Sumantra  went.    Then  Rama  came, 
And  Lakshman,  and  the  Maithil  daine, 
And,  as  he  led  'them  on,  their  guide 
Straight  to  the  monarch's  presence  hied. 
When  yet  far  off  the  father  saw 
Bis  son  with  raised  palms  toward  him  draw, 
Grirt  by  his  ladies,  sick  with  woes, 
Swift  from  his  royal  seat  he  rose. 
With  all  his  strength  the  aged  man 
To  meet  his  darling  Rama  ran, 
But  trembling,  wild  with  dark  despair, 
Fell  on  the  ground  and  fainted  there. 
And  Lakshman,  wont  in  cars  to  ride, 
And  Rama,  threw  them  by  the  side 
Of  the  poor  miserable  king, 
Half  lifeless  with  his  sorrow's  sting. 
Throughout  the  spacious  hall  up  went 
A  thousand  women's  wild  lament : 
'Ah  Rama!'  thus  they  wailed  and  wept, 
And  anklets  tinkled  as  they  stepped. 
Around  his  body,  weeping,  threw 
Their  loving  arms  the  brothers  two, 
And  then,  with  Sita's  gentle  aid, 
The  king  upon  a  couch  was  laid. 
At  length  to  earth's  imperial  lord, 
When  life  and  knowledge  were  restored, 
Though  seas  of  woe  went  o'er  his  head, 
With  suppliant  hands  thus  Rama  said: 
1  Lord  of  us  all,  great  King,  thou  art : 
Bid  me  farewell  before  we  part. 
To  Dandak  wood  this  day  1  go  : 
One  blessing  and  one  look  bestow. 
Let  Lakshman  my  companion  be, 
And  Sita  also  follow  me. 
With  truthful  pleas  I  sought  to  bend 
Their  purpose;  but  no  ear  they  lend. 
Now  cast  this  sorrow  from  thy  heart, 
And  let  us  all,  great  King,  depart, 
As  Brahma  sends  his  children,  so 
ILet  Lakshman,  me,  and  Sita  go.' 

He  stood  unmoved,  and  watched  intent 


Until  the  king  should  grant  consent. 
Upon  his  son  his  eyes  he  cast, 
And  thus  the  monarch  spake  at  last : 
'  0  Rama,  by  her  arts  enslaved, 
I  gave  the  boons  Kaikeyi  craved, 
Unfit  to  reign,  by  her  misled  : 
Be  ruler  in  thy  father's  stead.' 

Thus  by  the  lord  of  men  addressed, 
Rama,  of  virtue's  friends  the  best, 
In  lore  of  language  duly  learned, 
His  answer,  reverent,  thus  returned  : 
'  A  thousand  years,  O  King,  remain 
O'er  this  our  city  still  to  reign. 
I  in  the  woods  my  life  will  lead  : 
The  lust  of  rule  no  more  I  heed. 
Nine  years  and  five  I  there  will  spend, 
And  when  the  portioned  days  shall  end, 
Will  come,  my  vows  and  exile  o'er, 
And  clasp  thy  feet,  my  King,  once  more.' 

A  captive  in  the  snare  of  truth, 
Weeping,  distressed  with  woe  and  ruth, 
Thus  spake  the  monarch,  while  the  queen 
Kaikeyi  urged  him  on  unseen  : 
'  Go  then,  O  Rama,  and  begin 
Thy  course  unvext  by  fear  and  sin  : 
Go,  my  beloved  son,  and  earn 
Success,  and  joy,  and  safe  return. 
So  fast  the  bonds  of  duty  bind, 

0  Raghu's  son,  thy  truthful  mind, 

That  naught  can  turn  thee  back,  or  guide 

Thy  will  so  strongly  fortified, 

But  O,  a  little  longer  stay, 

Nor  turn  thy  steps  this  night  away, 

That  I  one  little  day — alas  \ 

One  only — with  my  son  may  pass. 

Me  and  thy  mother  do  not  slight, 

But  stay,  my  son,  with  rne  to-night ; 

With  every  dainty  please  thy  taste, 

And  seek  to-morrow  morn  the  waste, 

Hard  is  thy  task.  O  Raghu's  son, 

Dire  is  the  toil  thou  wilt  not  shun, 

Far  to  the  lonely  wood  to  flee, 

And  leave  thy  friends  for  love  of  me. 

1  swear  it  by  my  truth,  believe, 
For  thee,  my  son,  I  deeply  grieve, 
Misguided  by  the  traitress  dame 

With  hidden  guile  like  smouldering  flame. 
Now,  by  her  wicked  counsel  stirred. 
Thou  fain  wouldst  keep  my  plighted  word. 
No  marvel  that  my  eldest  born 
Would  hold  me  true  when  I  have  sworn.' 

Then  Rama  having  calmly  heard 
His  wretched  father  speak  each  word, 
With  Lakshman  standing  by  his  side 
Thus,  humbly,  to  the  king  replied  : 
'If  dainties  now  my  taste  resale, 
To-morrow  must  those  dainties  fail. 
This  day  departure  I  prefer 
To  all  that  wealth  can  minister. 
O'er  this  fair  land,  no  longer  mine, 
Which  I,  with  all  her  realin*s,  resign, 


136 


THE  RAMA  TAN. 


Boole  II. 


Her  multitudes  of  men,  her  grain, 

Her  stores  of  wealth,  let    Bharat  reign. 

And  let  the  promised  boon  which  thou 

Wast  pleased  to  grant  the  queen  ere  now, 

Be  hers  in  full.     He  true,  O   King, 

Kind  giver  of  each  precious  thing. 

Thy  spoken  word  I  still  will  heed, 

Obeying  all  thy  lips  decreed  ; 

And  fourteen  years  in  woods  will  dwell 

With  those  who  live  in  glade  and  dell. 

No  hopes  of  power  my  heart  can  touch, 

No  selfish  joys  attract  so  much 

As.  son  of  Kaghu,  to  fulfil 

With  heart  and  soul  my  father's  will, 

Dismiss,  dismiss  thy  needless  woe, 

Nor  let  those  drowning  torrents  flow  : 

The  Lord  of  Rivers  in  his  pride 

Keeps  to  the  banks  that  bar  his  tide. 

Here  in  thy  presence  I  declare  ; 

J'>y  thy  good  deeds,  thy  truth,  I  swear  ; 

Nor  lordship,  joy,  nor  lands  I  prize  ; 

Life,  heaven,  all  blessings  I  despise  ; 

I  wish  to  see  thee  still  remain 

Most  true,  O  King,  and  free  from  stain. 

It  must  not,  Sire,  it  must  not  be  : 

I  cannot  rest  one  hour  with  thee. 

Then  bring  this  sorrow  to  an  end, 

For  naught  my  settled  will  can  bend. 

I  gave  a  pledge  that  binds  me  too, 

And  to  that  pledge  I  still  am  true. 

Kaikeyi  bade  me  speed  away  : 

She  prayed  me,  and  I  answered  yea. 

Pine  not  for  me,  and  weep  no  more  ; 

The  wood  for  us  has  joy  in  store, 

Filled  with  the  wild  deer's  peaceful  herds 

And  voices  of  a  thousand  birds. 

A  father  is  the  God  of  each, 

Yea,  e'en  of  Gods,  so  Scriptures  teach  : 

And  I  will  keep  my  sire's  decree, 

For  as  a  God  I  honour  thee. 

O  best  of  men,  the  time  is  nigh, 

The  fourteen  years  will  soon  pass  by 

And  to  thine  eyes  thy  son  restore: 

Be  comforted,  and  weep  no  more. 

Thou  with  thy  firmness  shouldst  support 

These  weepingcrowds  who  throngthe  court; 

Then  why,  O  chief  of  high  renown, 

So  troubled,  and  thy  soul  cast  down  ?' 

CANTO  XXXV. 


KAIKEYI  REPROACHED. 

Wild  with  the  rage  he  could  not  calm, 
Sumantra,  grinding  palm  on  palm, 
His  head  in  quick  impatience  shook, 
And  sighed  with  woe  he  could  not  brook. 
He  gnashed  his  teeth,  his  eyes  were  red, 
From  his  changed  face  the  colour  fled. 
In  rage  and  grief  that  kaew  no  law, 


The  temper  of  the  king  he  saw. 
With  his  word-arrows  swift  and  keen 
He  shook  the  bosom  of  the  queen. 
With  scorn,  as  though  its  lightning  stroke 
Would  blast  her  body,  thus  he  spoke  : 
'  Thou,  who,  of  no  dread  sin  afraid, 
Hast  Dasaratha's  self  betrayed, 
Lord  of  the  world,  whose  might  sustain 
Each  thing  that  moves  or  fixed  remains, 
What  direr  crime  is  left  thee  now  ? 
Death  to  thy  lord  and  house  art  thou, 
Whose  cruel  deeds  the  king  distress, 
Mahendra's  peer  in  mightiness, 
Firm  as  the  mountain's  rooted  steep, 
Enduring  as  the  Ocean's  deep. 
Despise  not  Da'aratha,  he 
Is  a  kind  lord  and  friend  to  thee. 
A  loving  wife  in  worth  outruns 
The  mother  of  ten  million  sons. 
Kings,  when  their  sires  have  passed  away, 
Succeed  by  birthright  to  the  sway. 
Ikshvaku's  son  still  rules  the  state, 
Yet  thou  this  rule  wouldst  violate. 
Yea,  let  thy  son,  Kaikeyi,  rei^n, 
Let  Bharat  rule  his  sire's  domain. 
Thy  will,  O  Queen,  shall  none  oppose  : 
We  all  will  go  where  Rama  goes. 
No  Brahman,  scorning  thee,  will  rest 
Within  the  realm  thou  governest, 
But  all  will  fly  indignant  hence  : 
So  great  thy  trespass  and  offence. 
I  marvel,  when  thy  crime  I  see, 
Karth  yawns  not  quick  to  swallow  thee  ; 
And  that  the  Brahman  saints  prepare 
No  burning  scourge  thy  soul  to  scare, 
With  cries  of  shame  to  smite  thee,  bent 
Upon  our  Rama's  banishment. 
The  Mango  tree  with  axes  fell, 
And  tend  instead  the  Neem  tree  well, 
Still  watered  with  all  care  the  tree 
Will  never  sweet  and  pleasant  be. 
Thy  mother's  faults  to  thee  descend, 
Ancl  with  thy  borrowed  nature  blend. 
True  is  the  ancient  saw  :  the  Neem 
Can  ne'er  distil  a  honeyed  stream. 
Taught  by  the  tale  of  long  ago 
Thy  mother's  hateful  sin  we  know. 
A  bounteous  saint,  as  all  have  heard, 
A  boon  upon  thy  sire  conferred, 
And  all  the  eloquence  revealed 
That  fills  the  wood,  the  flood,  the  field. 
No  creature  walked,  or  swam,  or  flew, 
But  he  its  varied  language  knew. 
One  morn  upon  his  couch  he  heard 
The  chattering  of  a  gorgeous  bird, 
!  And  as  he  marked  its  close  intent 
He  laughed  aloud  in  merriment. 
Thy  mother  furious  with  her  lord, 
And  fain  to  perish  by  the  cord, 
i  Said  to  her  husband :   '  I  would  know, 
O  Monarch,  why  thou  laughest  80.' 


Canto  XXXVI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


137 


The  king  in  answer  spake  again  : 
'  If  1  this  laughter  should  explain, 
This  very  hour  would  be  my  last, 
For  death,  be  sure  would  follow  fast/ 
Again  thy  mother,  flushed  with  ire, 
To  Kekaya  spake,  thy  royal  sire : 
'Tell  me  the  cause  :  then  live  or  die  : 
I  will  not  brook  thy  laugh,  not  I.' 
Thus  by  his  darling  wife  addressed, 
The  king  whose  might  all  earth  confessed, 
To  that  kind  saint  his  story  told 
Who  gave  the  wondrous  gift  of  old. 
He  listened  to  the  king's  complaint, 
And  thus  in  answer  spoke  the  saint : 
'  King,  let  her  quit  thy  home  or  die, 
But  never  with  her  prayer  comply,' 
The  saint's  reply  his  trouble  stilled, 
And  all  his  heart  with  pleasure  filled. 
Thy  mother  from  his  home  he  sent, 
And  days  like  Lord  Kuvera's  spent. 
So  thou  wouldst  force  the  king,  misled 
By  thee,  in  evil  paths  to  tread, 
And  bent  on  evil  wouldst  begin, 
Through  folly,  this  career  of  sin. 
Most  true,  methinks,  in  thee  is  shown 
The  ancient  saw  so  widely  known  : 
The  sons  their  fathers'  worth  declare 
And  girls  their  mothers'  nature  share, 
bo  be  not  thou.    For  pity's  saKe 
Accept  the  word  the  monarch  spake, 
Thy  husband's  will,  O  Queen,  obey, 
And  be  the  people's  hope  and  stay, 
O,  do  not,  urged  by  folly,  draw 
The  king  to  tread  on  duty's  law, 
The  lord  who  all  the  world  sustains, 
Bright  as  the  God  o'er  Gods  who  reigns. 
Our  glorious  king,  by  sin  unstained, 
Will  never  grant  what  fraud  obtained  ; 
No  shade  of  fault  in  him  is  seen: 
Let  Kama  be  anointed,  Queen. 
Remember,  Queen,  undying  shame 
Will  through  the  world  pursue  thy  name, 
If  Rama  leave  the  king  his  sire, 
And,  banished,  to  the  wood  retire. 
Come,  from  thy  breast  this  fever  fling: 
Of  his  own  realm  be  Rama  king. 
None  in  this  city  e'er  can  dwell 
To  tend  and  love  thee  half  so  well. 
When  Rama  sits  in  royal  place, 
True  to  the  custom  of  his  race 
Our  monarch  of  the  mighty  bow 
;A  hermit  to  the  woods  will  go.'1 


It  was  the  custom  of  the  kings  of  the 
solar  dynasty  to  resign  in  their  extreme 
old  age  the  kingdom  to  the  heir,  and 
spend  the  remainder  of  their  days  in  holy 
meditation  in  the  forest : 
For  such  through  ages  in  their  life's  decline 
[a  the  ,good  custom  of  Ikshvaku's  line.' 

Raghuvahsa. 


Sumantra  thus,  palm  joined  to  palm, 
Poured  forth  his  words  of  bane  and  balm, 
With  keen  reproach,  with  pleading  kind, 
Striving  to  move  Kaikeyi's  mind. 
In  vain  he  prayed,  in  vain  reproved, 
She  heard  unsoftened  and  unmoved. 
Nor  could  the  eyes  that  watched  her  view 
One  yielding  look,  one  change  of  hue. 

CANTO  XXXVI. 


SIDDHARTH'S  SPEECH. 

Ikshvaku's  son  with  anguish  torn 
For  the  great  oath  his  lips  had  sworn, 
With  tears  and  stghs  of  sharpest  pain 
Thus  to  Sumantra  spake  again  : 
'  Prepare  thou  quick  a  perfect  force, 
Cars,  elephants,  and  foot,  and  horse, 
To  follow  Raghu's  scion  hence 
Equipped  with  all  magnificence. 
Let  traders  with  the  wealth  they  sell. 
And  those  who  charming  stories  tell, 
And  dancing- women  fair  of  face, 
The  prince's  ample  chariots  grace. 
On  all  the  train  who  throng  his  courts, 
And  those  who  share  his  manly  sports, 
Great  gifts  of  precious  wealth  bestow, 
And  bid  them  with  their  master  go. 
Let  noble  arms,  and  many  a  wain, 
And  townsmen  swell  the  prince's  train ; 
And  hunters  best  for  woodland  skill 
Their  places  in  the  concourse  fill. 
While  elephants  and  deer  he  slays, 
Drinking  wood  honey  as  he  strays, 
And  looks  on  streams  ea?h  fairer  yet, 
His  kingdom  he  may  chance  forget. 
Let  all  my  gold  and  wealth  of  corn 
With  Rama  to  the  wilds  be  born  ; 
For  it  will  soothe  the  exile's  lot 
To  sacrifice  in  each  pure  spot, 
Deal  ample  largess  forth,  and  meet 
Each  hermit  in  his  calm  retreat. 
The  wealth  shall  Rama  with  him  bear  : 
Ayodhyd  shall  be  Bharat's  share.' 

As  thus  Kakutstha's  offspring  spoke, 
Fear  in  Kaikeyi's  breast  awoke. 
The  freshness  of  her  face  was  dried, 
Her  trembling  tongue  was  terror-tied. 
Alarmed  and  sad,  with  bloodless  cheek, 
She  turned  to  him  and  scarce  could  speak : 
'  Nay,  Sire,  but  Bharat  shall  not  gain 
An  empty  realm  where  none  remain. 
My  Bharat  shall  not  rule  a  waste 
Reft  of  all  sweets  to  charm  the  taste — 
The  wine-cup's  dregs,  all  dull  and  dead, 
Whence  the  light  foam  and  life  are  fled.1 

Thus  in  her  rage  the  long-eyed  dame 
Spoke  her  dire  speech  untouched  by  shame. 


138 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


Then,  answering,  Dasaratha  spoke  : 

'Why.  having  bowed  me  to  the  yoke, 
Dost  thou,  must  cruel,  spur  and  goad 
Me  who  am  struggling  with  the  load? 
Why  didst  thou  not  oppose  at  first 
This  hope,  vile  Queen,  so  fondly  nursed  ?' 

Scarce  could; the  monarch's  angry  speech 
The  ears  of  the  fair  lady  reach. 
When  thus,  with  double  wrath  inflamed, 
Kaikeyi  to  the  king  exclaimed : 

'  Sagar,  from  whom  thy  line  is  traced, 
Drove  forth  his  eldest  son  disgraced, 
Called  Asamanj,  whose  fate  we  know  : 
Thus  should  thy  son  to  exile  go.' 

1  Fie  on  thee,  dame !'  the  monarch  said  ; 
Each  of  her  people  bent  his  head, 
And  stood  in  shame  and  sorrow  mute  : 
She  marked  not,  bold  and  resolute. 
Then  great  Siddharth,  inflamed  with  rage, 
The  good  old  councillor  and  sage 
On  whose  wise  rede  the  king  relied, 
To  Queen  Kaikeyi  thus  replied  : 
4  But  Asamanj  the  cruel  laid 
His  hands  on'infants  as  they  played, 
Cast  them  to  Sarju's  flood,  and  smiled 
For  pleasure  when  he  drowned  a  child.' l 
The  people  saw,  and,  furious,  sped 
Straight  the  the  king  his  sire  and  said : 

*  Choose  us,  0  glory  of  the  throne, 
Choose  us.  or  Asamanj  alone.' 
'Whence  comes  this  dread  ?' the  monarch 

oried  ; 
And  all  the  people  thus  replied  : 

*  In  folly,  King,  he  loves  to  lay 
Fierce  hands  upon  our  babes  at  play, 
Casts  them  to  Sarju's  flood  and  joys 
To  murder  our  bewildered  boys.' 
With  heedful  ear  the  king  of  men 
Heard  each  complaining  citizen. 

To  please  their  troubled  minds  he  strove, 
Ana  from  the  state  his  son  he  dro/e. 
With  wife  and  gear  upon  a  car 
He  placedahim  quick,  and  sent  him  far. 


i  See  Book  I.,  Canto  XXXIX.  An  Indian 
prince  in  more  modern  times  appears  to 
have  diverted  himself  in  a  similar  way. 

It  is  still  reported  in  Belgaum  that  Appay 
Deasy  was  wont  to  amuse  himself  "by 
making  several  young^  and  beautiful 
women  stand  side  by  side  on  a  narrow 
balcony,  without  a  parapet,  overhanging 
the  deep  reservoir  at  the  new  palace  in 
Kipani.  He  used  then  to  pass  along  the 
line  of  trembling  creatures,  and  suddenly 
thrusting  one  of  them  headlong  into  the 
water  below,  he  used  to  watch  her  drown- 
ing, and  derive  pleasure  from  her  dying 
agonies." — History  of  the  Belgaum  District 
Uy  H.  J.  Stokes,  M,  S.  C. 


And  thus  he  gave  commandment,  '  He 
Shall  all  his  days  an  exile  be.' 
With  basket  and  with  plough  he  strayed 
O'er  mountain  heights,  through  pathless 

shade, 

Roaming  all  lands  a  weary  time, 
An  outcast  wretch  defiled  with  crime. 
Sagar,  the  righteous  path  who  held, 
His  wicked  offspring  thus  expelled. 
But  what  has  Rama  done  to  blame? 
Why  should  his  sentence  be  the  samef 
No  sin  his  stainless  name  can  dim  ; 
We  see  no  fault  at  all  in  him. 
Pure  as  the  moon,  no  darkening  blot 
On  his  sweet  life  has  left  a  spot. 
If  th"U  canst  see  one  fault,  e'en  one, 
To  dim  the  fame  of  Raghu's  son, 
That  fault  this  hour,  O  lady,  show, 
And  Rama  to  the  wood  shall  go. 
To  drive  the  guiltless  to  the  wild, 
Truth's  constant  lover,  undefined, 
Would,  by  defiance  of  the  right, 
The  glory  e'en  of  Itidra  blight. 
Then  cease,  O  lady,  and  dismiss 
Thy  hope  to  ruin  "Rama's  bliss, 
Or  all  thy  gain,  O  fair  of  face, 
Will  be  men's  hatred,  and  disgrace.' 

CANTO  XXXVII. 


THE  COATS  OF  BARK. 

Thus  spake  the  virtuous  sage  ;  and  then 
Rama  addressed  the  king  of  men. 
In  laws  of  meek  behaviour  bred, 
Thus  to  his  sire  he  meekly  said  : 

4  King,  I  renounce  all  earthly  care, 
And  live  in  woods  on  woodland  fare. 
What,  dead  to  joys,  have  I  to  do 
With  lordly  train  and  retinue  ? 
Who  gives  his  elephant  and  yet 
Upon  the  girths  his  heart  will  set? 
How  can  a  cord  attract  his  eyes 
Who  gives  away  the  nobler  prize  ? 
Best  of  the  good,  with  me  be  led 
No  host,  my  King,  with  banners  spread. 
All  wealth,  all  lordship  I  resign : 
The  hermit's  dress  alone  be  mine. 
Before  I  go,  have  here  conveyed 
A  little  basket  and  a  spade. 
With  these  alone  I  go,  content, 
For  fourteen  years  of  banishment/ 

With  her  own  hands  Kaikeyi  took 
The  hermit  coats  of  bark,  and,  '  Look,' 
She  cried  with  bold  unblushing  brow 
Before  the  concourse,  '  Dress  thee  now.' 
That  lion  leader  of  the  brave 
Took  from  her  hand  the  dress  she  gave, 
Cast  his  fine  raiment  on  the  ground, 


Canto  XXX VIII. 


THE  RAMA? AN. 


139 


And  roun<l  his  waist  the  vesture  bound. 
Then  quick  the  hero  Lakshmaii  too 
His  garment  from  his  shoulders  threw, 
And,  in  the  presence  of  his  sire, 
Indued  the  ascetic's  rough  attire. 
But  Sita,  in  her  silks  arrayed, 
Threw  glances,  trembling  and  afraid, 
On  the  bark  coat  she  had  to  wear, 
Like  a  shy  doe  that  eyes  the  snare. 
Ashamed  and  weeping  for  distress 
From  the  queen's  hand  she  took  the  dress 
The  fair  one,  by  her  husband's  side 
Who  matched  heaven's  minstrel  monarch,1 

cried : 

'  How  bind  they  on  their  woodland  dress, 
Those  hermits  of  the  wilderness  ? ' 

Therefstood  the  pride  of  Janak's  race 
Perplexed,  with  sad  appealing  face. 
One  coat  the  lady's  fingers  grasped, 
One  round  her  neck  she;sfeebly  clasped, 
But  failed  again,  again,  confused 
By  the  wild  garb  she  ne'er  had  used. 
Then  quickly  hastening  Rama,  pride 
Of  all  who  cherish  virtue,  tied 
The  rough  bark  mantle  on  her,  o'er 
The  silken  raiment  that  she  wore. 

Then  the  sad  women  when  they  saw 
Kama  the  choice  bark  round  her  draw, 
Rained  water  from  each  tender  eye, 
And  cried  aloud  with  bitter  cry : 
'  O,  not  on  her,  beloved,  not 
On  Sita  falls  thy  mournful  lot. 
If,  faithful  to  thy  father's  will, 
Thou  must  go  forth,  leave  Sita  still. 
Let  Sita  still  remaining  here 
Our  hearts  with  her  loved  presence  cheer. 
With  Lakshman  by  thy  side  to  aid 
Seek  thou,  dear  son,  the  lonely  shade. 
Unmeet,  one  good  and  fair  as  she 
Should  dwell  in  woods  a  devotee. 
Let  not  our  prayers  be  prayed  in  vain  : 
Let  beauteous  Sita  yet  remain  ; 
For  by  thy  love  of  duty  tied 
Thou  wilt  not  here  thyself  abide.' 
Then  the  king's  venerable  guide 
Vasishtha,  when  he  saw  each  coat 
Enclose  the  lady's  waist  and  throat, 
Her  zeal  with  gentle  words  repressed, 
And  Queen  Kaikeyi  thus  addressed  : 
*  O  evil-hearted  sinner,  shame 
Of  royal  Kekaya's  race  and  name  ; 
Who  matchless  in  thy  sin  couldst  cheat 
Thy  lord  the  king  with  vile  deceit ; 
Lost  to  ail  sense  of  duty,  know 
Sita  to  exile  shall  not  go. 
Sita  shall  guard,  as  'twere  her  own, 
The  precious  trust  of  Llama's  throne. 


1  Chitraratha,    King   of    the   celestial 
choristers. 


Those  joined  by  wedlock's  sweet  control 
Have  but  one  self  and  common  soul. 
Thus  Sita  shall  our  empress  be, 
For  Rama's  self  and  soul  is  she. 
Or  if  she  still  to  Rama  cleave 
And  for  the  woods  the  kingdom  leave  : 
If  naught  her  loving  heart  deter, 
We  and  this  town  will  follow  her. 
The  warders  of  the  queen  shall  take 
Their  wives  and  go  for  Rama  s  sake. 
The  nation  with  its  stores  of  grain, 
The  city's  wealth  shall  swell  his  train. 
Bharat,  &atrughna  both  will  wear 
Bark  mantles,  and  his  lodging  share, 
Still  with  their  elder  brother  dwell 
In  the  wild  wood,  and  serve  him  well. 
Rest  here  alone,  and  rule  thy  state 
Unpeopled,  barren,  desolate ; 
Be  empress  of  the  land  and  trees, 
Thou  sinner  whom  our  sorrows  please, 
The  land  which  Rama  reigns  not  o'er 
Shall  bear  the  kingdom's  name  no  more  :. 
The  woods  which  Rama  wanders  through 
Shall  be  our  home  and  kingdom  too. 
Bharat,  be  sure,  will  never  deign 
O'er  realms  his  father  yields,  to  reign. 
Nay,  if  the  king's  true  son  he  be, 
He  will  net,  sonlike,  dwell  with  thee. 
Nay,  shouldst  thou  from  the  earth  arise, 
And  send  thy  message  from  the  skies, 
To  his  forefathers'  custom  true 
No  erring  course  would  he  pursue. 
So  hast  thou,  by  thy  grievous  fault, 
Offended  him  thou  wouldst  exalt. 
In  all  the  world  none  draws  his  breath 
Who  loves  not  Rama,  true  to  death. 
This  day,  O  Queen,  shalt  thou  behold 
Birds,  deer,  and  beasts  from  lea  and  fold 
Turn  to  the  woods  in  Rama's  train, 
And  naught  save  longing  trees  remain.' 


CANTO  XXXVIII. 


CARE  FOR 

Then  when  the  people  wroth  and  sad 

•Jaw  Sita  in  bark  vesture  clad, 

Dhough  wedded,  like  some  widowed  thing, 

They  cried  out,  'Shame  upon  thee,  King  T 
Grieved  by  their  cry  and  angry  look 

The  lord  of  earth  at  once  forsook 
All  hope  in  life  that  still  remained, 

n  duty,  self,  and  fame  unstained. 

!kshvaku's  son  with  burning  sighs 
On  Queen  Kaikeyi  bent  his  eyes, 
And  said  :  '  But  Sita  must  not  flee 

n  garments  of  a  devotee. 

&y  holy  guide  has  spoken  truth/ 
Unfit  is  she  in  tender  youth, 


140 


THE  RAM  AT  AN. 


Boole  II. 


So  gently  nurtured,  soft  and  fair, 
The  hardships  of  the  wood  to  share. 
How  has  she  sinned,  devout  and  true, 
The  noblest  monarch's  child, 

That  she  should  garb  of  bark  indue 
Arid  journey  to  the  wild  ? 

That  she  should  spend  her  youthful  days 
Amid  a  hermit  band, 

Like  some  poor  mendicant  who  strays 
Sore  troubled,  through  the  land? 

Ah,  let  the  child  of  Janak  throw 
Her  dress  of  bark  aside, 

And  let  the  royal  lady  go 
With  royal  wealth  supplied. 

Not  such  the  pledge  I  gave  before, 
Unlit  to  linger  here : 

The  oath,  which  I  the  sinner  swore 
Is  kept,  and  leaves  her  clear. 

Won  from  her  childlike  love  this  too 
My  instant  death  would  be, 

As  blossoms  on  the  old  bamboo 

Destroy  the  parent  tree.1 
If  aught  amiss  by  Rama  done 
Offend  thee,  O  thou  wicked  one, 
What  least  transgression  canst  thou  find 
In  her,  thou  worst  of  womankind? 
What  shade  of  fault  in  her  appeal's, 
Whose  full  soft  eye  is  like  the  deer's  ? 
What  canst  thou  blame  in  Janak's  child, 
So  gentle,  modest,  true,  and  mild  ? 
Is  not  one  crime  complete,  that  sent 
My  Rama  forth  to  banishment  ? 
And  wilt  thou  other  sins  commit, 
Thou  wicked  one,  to  double  it  ? 
This  is  the  pledge  and  oath  I  swore, 
What  thou  besoughtest,  and  no  more, 
Of  Rama— for  I  heard  thee,  dame— 
When  he  for  consecration  came. 
Now  with  this  limit  not  content, 
In  hell  should  be  thy  punishment, 
Who  fain  the  Maithil  bride  wouldst  press 
To  clothe  her  limbs  with  hermit  dress.' 

Thus  spake  the  father  in  his  woe  ; 
And  Rama,  still  prepared  to  go, 
To  him  who  sat  with  drooping  head 
Spake  in  return  these  words  and  said  : 

*  Just  King,  here  stands  my  mother  dear, 
Kausalyd,  one  whom  all  revere. 
Submissive,  gentle,  old  is  she, 
And  keeps  her  lips  from  blame  of  thee. 
For  her,  kind  lord,  of  me  bereft 
A  sea  of  whelming  woe  is  left. 
O,  show  her  in  her  new  distress 
Still  fonder  love  and  tenderness. 
Well  honoured  by  thine  honoured  hand 
Her  grief  for  me  let  her  withstand, 
Who  wrapt  in  constant  thought  of  me 
In  me  would  live  a  devotee. 

1  It  is  said  that  the  bamboo  dies  after 
flowering. 


Peer  of  Mahendra,  O,  to  her  be  kind, 
And  treat  I  pray,  my  gentle  mother  so, 

That,  when  I  dwell  afar,  her  life  resigned, 
She   may  not  pass  to  Yarna's  ,  realm 
for  woe.' 

CANTO  XXXIX. 


COUNSEL  TO  SITA'. 

Scarce  had  the  sire,  with  each  dear  queen, 
Heard  Rama's  pleading  voice,  and  seen 
His  darling  in  his  hermit  dress 
Ere  failed  his  senses  for  distress. 
Convulsed  with  woe,  his  soul  that  shook, 
On  Raghu's  son  he  could  not  look  ; 
Or  if  he  looked  with  failing  eye 
He  could  not  to  the  chief  reply. 
By  pangs  of  bitter  grief  assailed, 
The  long- armed  monarch  wept  and  wailed, 
Half  dead  a  while  and  sore  distraught, 
While  R&ma  filled  his  every  thought. 
*  This  hand  of  mine  in  days  ere  now 
Has  reft  her  young  from  many  a  cow, 
Or  living  things  has  idly  slain  : 
Hence  comes,  I  ween,  this  hour  of  pain. 
Not  till  the  hour  is  come  to  die 
Can  from  its  shell  the  spirit  fly. 
Death  comes  not,  and  Kaikeyi  still 
Torments  the  wretch  she  cannot  kill, 
Who  sees  his  son  before  him  quit 
The  fine  soft  robes  his  rank  that  fit, 
And,  glorious  as  the  burning  fire, 
In  hermit  garb  his  limbs  attire. 
Now  all  the  people  grieve  and  groan 
Through  Queen  Kaikeyi's  deed  alone, 
Who,  having  dared  this  deed  of  sin, 
Strives  for  herself  the  gain  to  win.' 

He  spoke.  With  tears  his  eyes  grew  dim, 
His  senses  all  deserted  him. 
He  cried,  O  Rama,  once,  then  weak 
And  fainting  could  no  further  speak. 
Unconscious  there  he  lay  :  at  length 
Regathering  his  sense  and  strength, 
While  his  full  eyes  their  torrents  shed, 
To  wise  Sumantra  thus  he  said  : 
'  Yoke  the  light  car,  and  hither  lead 
Fleet  coursers  of  the  noblest  breed, 
And  drive  this  heir  of  lofty  fate 
Beyond  the  limit  of  the  state. 
This  seems  the  fruit  that  virtues  bear, 
The  meed  of  worth  which  texts  declare — 
The  sending  of  the  brave  and  good 
By  sire  and  mother  to  the  wood.' 

He  heard  the  monarch,  and  obeyed, 
With  ready  feet  that  ne'er  delayed, 
And  brought  before  the  palace  gate 
The  horses  and  the  car  of  state. 
Then  to  the  monarch's  son  he  sped, 
And  raising  hands  of  reverence  said 


Canto 


XL. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


141 


That  the  light  car  which  gold  made  fair, 
With  best  of  steeds,  was  standing  there. 
King  Dasaratha  called  in  haste 
The  lord  o'er  all  his  treasures  placed. 
And  spoke,  well  skilled  in  place  and  time, 
His  will  to  him  devoid  of  crime  : 
'  Count  all  the  years  she  has  to  live 
Afar  in  forest  wilds,  and  give 
To  Sita  robes  and  gems  of  price 
As  for  the  time  may  well  suffice.' 
Quick  to  the  treasure-room  he  went, 
Charged  by  that  king  most  excellent, 
Brought  the  rich  stores,  and  gave  them  all 
To  Sita  in  the  monarch's  hall. 
The  Maithil  dame  of  high  descent 
Keceived  each  robe  and  ornament, 
And  tricked  those  limbs,  whose  lines  fore- 
told 

High  destiny,  with  gems  and  gold. 
So  well  adorned,  so  fair  to  view, 
A  glory  through  the  hall  she  threw  : 
So,  when  the  Lord  of  Light  upsprings, 
His  radiance  o'er  the  sky  he  flings. 
Then  Queen  Kausalya  spake  at  last, 
With  loving  arms  about  her  cast, 
Pressed  lingering  kisses  on  her  head, 
And  to  the  high-souled  lady  said  : 
'Ah,  iii  this  faithless  world  below 
Wnen  dark  misfortune  comes  and  woe, 
Wives,  loved  and  cherished  every  day, 
Neglect  their  lords  and  disobey. 
Yes,  woman's  nature  still  is  this  : — 
After  long  days  of  calm  and  bliss 
When  some  light  grief  her  spirit  tries, 
She  changes  all  her  love,  or  flies. 
Young  wives  are  thankless,  false  in  soul, 
With  roving  hearts  that  spurn  control. 
Brooding  on  sin  and  quickly  changed, 
In  one  short  hour  their  love  estranged. 
Not  glorious  deed  or  lineage  fair, 
Not  knowledge,  gift,  or  tender  care 
In  chains  of  lasting  love  can  bind 
A  woman's  light  inconstant  mind. 
But  those  good  dames  who  still  maintain 
What  right,  truth,  Scripture,  rule  ordain- 
No  holy  thing  in  their  pure  eyes 
With  one  beloved  husband  vies. 
Nor  let  thy  lord  my  sou,  condemned 
To  exile,  be  by  thee  contemned, 
For  be  he  poor  or  wealthy,  he 
Is  as  a  God,  dear  child,  to  thee.' 

When  Sita  heard  Kausalya's  speech 
Her  duty  and  her  gain  to  teach, 
She  joined  her  palms  with  reverent  grace 
And  gave  her  answer  face  to  face : 
'  All  will  I  do,  forgetting  naught, 
Which  thou,O  honoured  Queen, hast  taught, 
I  know,  have  heard,  and  deep  have  stored 
The  rules  of  duty  to  my  lord. 
Not  me,  good  Queen,  shouldst  thou  include 
Among  the  faithless  multitude. 


Its  own  sweet  light  the  moon  shall  leave 

Ere  I  to  duty  cease  to  cleave. 

The  stringless  lute  gives  forth  no  strain, 

The  wheelless  car  is  urged  in  vain  ; 

No  joy  a  lordless  dame,  although 

Blest  with  a  hundred  sons,  can  know. 

From  father,  brother,  and  from  son 

A  measured  share  of  joy  is  won  : 

Who  wouid  not  honour,  love,  and  bless 

Her  lord,  whose  gifts  are  measureless? 

Thus  trained  to  think,  I  hold  in  awe 

Scripture's  command  and  duty's  law. 

Him  can  I  hold  in  slight  esteem  ? 

Her  lord  is  woman's  God,  I  deem.' 

Kausalya  heard  the  lady's  speech, 

Nor  failed  those  words  her  heart  to  reach, 

Then,  pure  in  mind,  she  gave  to  flow 

The  tear  that  sprang  of  joy  and  woe. 

Then  duteous  Rama  forward  came 

And  stood  before  the  honoured  dame, 

And  joining  reverent  hands  addressed 

The  queen  in  rank  above  the  rest : 

1  O  mother,  from  these  tears  refrain  ; 

Look  on  my  sire  and  still  thy  pain. 

To  thee  my  days  afar  shall  fly 

As  if  sweet  slumber  closed  thine  eye, 

And  fourteen  years  of  exile  seem 

To  thee,  dear  mother,  like  a  dream. 

On  me  returning  safe  and  well, 

Girt  by  my  friends,  thine  eyes  shall  dwell/ 

Thus  for  their  deep  affection's  sake 
The  hero  to  his  mother  spake, 
Then  to  the  half  seven  hundred  too, 
Wives  of  his  sire,  paid  reverence  due. 
Thus  Dasaratha's  son  addressed 
That  crowd  of  matrons  sore  distressed  : 
*  If  from  these  lips,  while  here  1  dwelt, 
One  heedless  taunt  you  e'er  have  felt, 
Forgive  me,  pray.     And  now  adieu, 
I  bid  good-bye  to  all  of  you.' 
Then  straight,  like  curlews'  cries,  upwent 
The  voices  of  their  wild  lament, 
While,  as  he  bade  farewell,  the  crowd 
Of  royal  women  wept  aloud, 
And  through  the  ample  hall's  extent, 
Where  erst  the  sound  of  tabour,  blent 
With  drum  and  shrill-toned  instrument, 

In  joyous  concert  rose, 
Now  rang  the  sound  of  wailing  high, 
The  lamentation  and  the  cry, 
The  shriek,  the  choking  sob,  the  sigh 

That  told  the  ladies'  woes. 


CANTO  XL. 


RAMA'S  DEPARTURE, 

Then  Rama,  Sita,  Lakshman  bent 
At  the  king's  feet,  and  sadly' went 


142 


THE  MAM  AY  AN. 


Hook  II. 


Bound  him  with  slow  steps  reverent. 
When  Rama  of  the  duteous  heart 
Had  gained  his  sire's  consent  to  part, 
With  Sita  by  his  sido  he  paid 
Due  reverence  to  the  queen  dismayed. 
And  Lakshman,  with  affection  meet, 
Bowed  down  and  clasped  his  mother's  feet. 
Sumitra  viewed  him  as  he  pressed 
Her  feet,  and  thus  her  son  addressed  : 

•  Neglect  not  Rama  wandering  there, 
But  tend  him  with  thy  faithful  care. 
Jn  hours  of  wealth,  in  time  of  woe, 
Him,  sinless  son,  thy  refuge  know. 
From  this  good  law  the  just  ne'er  swerve, 
That  younger  sons  the  eldest  serve, 
And  to  this  righteous  rule  incline 

All  children  of  thine  ancient  line — 
Freely  to  give,  reward  each  rite, 
Nor  spare  their  bodies  in  the  fight. 
Let  Ra:na  Dasaratha  be, 
Look  upon  Sita  as  on  me, 
And  let  the  cot  wherein  }7ou  dwell 
Be  thine  Ayodhya.     Fare  thee  well,' 
Her  blessing  thus  Sumitra  gave 
To  him  whose  soul  to  Rama  clave, 
Exclaiming,  when  her  speech  was  done, 

*  Go  forth,  O  Lakshman,  go,  my  son. 
Go  forth,  my  son.  to  win  success, 
High  victory  and  happiness. 

Go  forth  thy  foemen  to  destroy, 
And  turn  again  at  last  with  joy.' 

As  Matali  his  charioteer 
Speaks  for  the  Lord  of  Gods  to  hear, 
Sumantra,  palm  to  palm  applied, 
In  reverence  trained,  to  Kama  cried  : 
'  O  famous  Prince,  my  car  ascend, — 
May  blessings  on  thy  course  attend, — 
And  swiftly  shall  my  horses  flee 
And  place  thee  where  thou  biddest  me. 
The  fourteen  years  thou  hast  to  stay 
Far  in  the  wilds,  begin  to-day  ; 
For  Queen  Kaikeyi  cries,  Away,' 

Then  Sita,  best  of  womankind, 
Ascended,  with  a  tranquil  mind, 
£>oon  as  her  toilet  task  was  done, 
That  chariot  brilliant  as  the  sun, 
Rama  and  Lakshman  true  and  bold 
Sprang  on  the  car  adorned  with  gold. 
The  king  those  years  had  counted  o'er, 
And  given  Sita  robes  and  store 
Of  precious  ornaments  to  wear 
When  following  her  husband  there. 
The  brothers  in  the  car  found  place 
For  nets  and  weapons  of  the  chase, 
There  warlike  arms  and  mail  they  laid, 
A  leathern  basket  and  a  spade. 
Soon  as  Sumantra  saw  the  three 
Were  seated  in  the  chariot,  he 
Urged  on  each  horse  of  noble  breed, 
Who  matched  the  rushing  wind  in  speed. 
As  thus  the  son  of  Raghu  went 


Forth  for  his  dreary  banishment, 
Chill  numbing  grief  the  town  assailed, 
All  strength  grew  weak,  all  spirit  failed. 
Ayodhya  through  her  wide  extent 
Was  filled  witli  tumult  and  lament : 
Steeds  neighed  and  shook  the  bells  they 

bore, 

Each  elephant  returned  a  roar. 
Then  all  tbe  city,  young  and  old, 
Wild  with  their  sorrow  uncontrolled, 
Rushed  to  the  car,  as,  from  the  sun 
The  panting  herds  to  water  run. 
Before  the  car,  behind,  they  clung, 
And  there  as  eagerly  they  hung, 
With  torrents  streaming  from  their  eyes, 
Called  loudly  with  repeated  cries  : 

*  Listen,  Sumantra  :  draw  thy  rein  ; 
Drive  gently,  and  thy  steeds  restrain. 
Once  me  re  on  Rama  will  we  gaze, 
Now  to  be  lost  for  many  days. 

The  queen  his  mother  has,  be  sure, 

A  heart  of  iron,  to  endure 

To  see  her  godlike  Kama  go, 

Nor  feel  it  shattered  by  the  blow. 

Sita,  well  done  !  Videha's  pride, 

Still  like  his  shadow  by  his  side  ; 

Rejoicing  in  thy  duty  still 

As  sunlight  cleaves  to  Meru's  hill. 

Thou,  Lakshman,  too,  hast  well  deserved, 

Who  from  thy  duty  hast  not  swerved, 

Tending  the  peer  of  Gods  above, 

Whose  lips  speak  naught  but  words  of  love. 

Thy  firm  resolve  is  nobly  great, 

And  high  success  on  thee  shall  wait. 

Yea,  thou  shalt  win  a  priceless  meed — 

Thy  path  with  him  to  heaven  shall  lead.' 

As  thus  they  spake,  they  could  not  hold 

The  tears  that  down  their  faces  rolled, 

While  still  they  followed  for  a  space 

Their  darling  of  Ikshvaku's  race. 

There  stood  surrounded  by  a  ring 
Of  mournful  wives  the  mournful  king ; 
For,'  1  will  see  once  more,'  he  cried, 

*  Mine  own  dear  son,'  and  forth  he  hied. 
As  he  came  near,  there  rose  the  sound 
Of  weeping,  as  the  darnes  stood  round. 
So  the  she-elephants  complain 

When  their  great  lord  and  guide  is  slain, 
Kakutstha's  son,  the  king  of  men, 
The  glorious  sire,  looked  troubled  then, 
As  the  full  moon  is  when  dismayed 
By  dark  eclipse's  threatening  shade. 
Then  Dasaratha's  son,  designed 
For  highest  fate  of  lofty  mind, 
Urged  to  more  speed  the  chari  teer, 
'  Away,  away  !  why  linger  here  ? 
Urge  on  thy  horses,'  Kama  cried, 
And  '  Stay,  O  stay,'  the  people  sighed. 
Sumantra,  urged  to  speed  away, 
The  townsmen's  call  must  disobey, 
Forth  as  the  long- armed  hero  went, 


Canto  X.LI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


US 


The  dust-his  chariot  wheels  up  sent 
Was  laid  by  streams  that  ever  flowed 
From  their  sad  eyes  who  filled  the  road. 
Then,  sprung  of  woe,  from  eyes  of  all 
The  women  drops  began  to  fall, 
As  from  each  lotus  on  the  lake 
The  darting  fish  the  water  shake. 
When  he,  the  king  of  high  renown, 
Saw  that  one  thought  held  all  the  town, 
Like  some  tall  tree  he  fell  and  lay, 
Whose  root  the  axe  has  hewn  away. 
Then  straight  a  mighty  cry  from  those 
Who  followed  Rama's  car  arose, 
Who  saw  their  monarch  fainting  there 
Beneath  that  grief  too  great  to  bear. 
Then  «  Rama,  Rama !'  with  the  cry 
Of  *  Ah,  his  mother  !'  sounded  high, 
As  all  the  people  wept  aloud 
Around  the  ladies'  sorrowing  crowd. 
When  Rama  backward  turned  his  eye, 
And  saw  the  king  his  father  lie 
With  troubled  sense  and  failing  limb, 
And  the  sad  queen,  who  followed  him, 
Like  some  young  creature  in  the  net, 
That  will  not,  in  its  misery,  let 
Its  wild  eyes  on  its  mother  rest, 
So,  by  the  bonds  of  duty  pressed, 
His  mother's  look  he  could  not  meet. 
He  saw  them  with  their  weary  feet, 
Who,  used  to  bliss,  in  cars  should  ride, 
Who  ne'er  by  sorrow  should  be  tried, 
And,  as  one  mournful  look  he  cast, 
'  Drive  on,'  he  cried,  '  Sumantra,  fast.' 
As  when  the  driver's  torturing  hook 
Goads  on  an  elephant,  the  look 
Of  sire  and  mother  in  despair 
Was  more  than  Rama's  heart  could  bear. 
As  mother  kine  to  stalls  return 
Which  hold  the  calves  for  whom  they  yearn, 
So  to  the  car  she  tried  to  run 
As  a  cow  seeks  her  little  one. 
Once  and  again  the  hero's  eyes 
Looked  on  his  mother,  as  with  cries 
Of  woe  she  called  and  gestures  wild, 
'  O  Sita,  Lakshman,  O  my  child  !' 
'  Stay,'  cried  the  king,  'thy  chariot  stay:' 
1  On  on.'  cried  Rama,  '  speed  away.1 
As  one  between  two  hosts,  inclined 
To  neither  was  Sumantra's  mind. 
But  Rama  spake  these  words  again  : 
1  A  lengthened  woe  is  bitterest  pain. 
On,  on  ;  and  if  his  wrath  grow  hot, 
Thine  answer  be,  '  I  heard  thee  not.' 
Sumantra,  at  the  chief's  behest, 
Dismissed  the   crowd  that   toward  him 

pressed, 

And,  as  he  bade,  to  swiftest  speed 
Urged  on  his  way  each  willing  steed. 
The  king's  attendants  parted  thence, 
And  paid  him  heart-felt  reverence  : 
In  mind,  and  with  the  tears  he  wept, 


Each  still  his  place  near  Rama  kept. 
As  swift  away  the  horses  sped, 
II is  lords  to  Dasaratha  said  : 
*  To  follow  him  whom  thou  again 
Wouldst  see  returning  home  is  vain/ 

With  failing  limb  and  drooping  mien 

He  heard  their  counsel  wise : 
Srill  on  their  son  the  king  and  queen 
Kept  fast  their  lingering  eyes.1 

CANTO  XLI. 
THE  CITIZENS'  LAMENT, 

The  lion  chief  with  hands  upraised 
Was  born  from  eyes  that  fondly  gazed. 
But  then  the  ladies'  bower  was  rent 
With  cries  of  weeping  and  lament: 
1  Where  goes  he  now,  our  lord,  the  sure 
Protector  of  the  friendless  poor, 
In  whom  the  wretched  and  the  weak 
Defence  and  aid  were  wont  to  seek  ? 
All  words  of  wrath  he  turned  aside, 
And  ne'er,  when  cursed,  in  ire  replied. 
He  shared  his  people's  woe,  and  stilled 
The  troubled  breast  which  rage  had  filled. 
Our  chief,  on  lofty  thoughts  intent, 
In  glorious  fame  preeminent: 
As  on  his  ow*n  dear  mother,  thus 
He  ever  looked  on  each  of  us. 
Where  goos  he  now  ;  His  sire's  behest, 
By  Queen  Kaikeyi's  guile  distressed, 
Has  banished  to  the  forest  hence 
Him  who  was  all  the  world's  defence. 
Ah,  senseless  King,  to  drive  away 
The  hope  of  men,  their  guard  and  stay, 
To  banish  to  the  distant  wood 
Kama  the  duteous,  true,  and  good  !' 
The  royal  dames,  like  cows  bereaved 
Of  their  young  calves,  thus  sadly  grieved. 
The  monarch  heard  them  as  they  wailed, 
And  by  the  fire  of  grief  assailed 
For  his  dear  son,  he  bowed  his  head, 
And  all  his  sense  and  memory  fled. 

Then  were  no  fires  of  worship  fed, 
Thick  darkness  o'er  the  sun  was  spread. 
The  cows  their  thirsty  calves  denied, 
And  elephants  flung  their  food  aside. 


1  '  Thirty  centuries  have  passed  since  he 
began  this  memorable  journey.  Every  step 
of  it  is  known  and  is  annually  traversed 
by  thousands  :  hero  worship  is  not  extinct. 
What  can  Faith  do  !  How  strong  are  the 
ties  of  religion  when  entwined  with  the 
legends  of  a  country  !  How  many  a  cart 
creeps  creaking  and  weary  along  the  road 
from  Ayodhya  to  Chitrakut.  It  is  this 
that  gives  the'Ramayan  a  strange  interest, 
the  storv  still  lives.'  Calcutta  Review: 
Vol.  XXII2. 


144 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


Trisanku,1  Jupiter  looked  dread, 

And  Mercury  and  Mars  the  red, 

In  direful  opposition  met, 

The  glory  of  the  moon  beset. 

The  lunar  stars  withheld  their  light, 

The  planets  were  no  longer  bright, 

But  meteors  with  their  horrid  glare, 

And  dire  Visakhas*  lit  the  air. 

As  troubled  Ocean  heaves  and  raves 

When   Doom's  wild   tempest  sweeps  the 

waves, 

Thus  all  Ayodhya  reeled  and  bent 
Wneri  Rama  to  the  forest  went. 
And  chilling  grief  and  dark  despair 
Fell  suddenly  on  all  men  there. 
Their  wonted  pastime  all  forgot, 
Nor  thought  of  food,  or  touched  it  not. 
Crowds  in  the  royal  street  were  seen 
With  weeping  eye  and  troubled  mien  : 
No  more  a  pe  pie  gay  and  glad, 
Each  head  and  heart  was  sick  and  sad. 
No  more  the  cool  wind  softly  blew, 
The  moon  no  more  was  fair  to  view, 
No  more  the  sun  witii  genial  glow 
Cherished  the  world  now  plunged  in  woe, 
Sons,  brothers,  husbands,  wedded  wives 
Forgot  the  tie.s  that  joined  their  lives  ; 
No  thought  for  kith  and  kin  was  spared, 
But  all  for  only  Rama  cared. 
And  Rama's  friends  who  loved  him  best, 
Their  minds  disordered  and  distressed. 
By  the  great  burthen  of  their  woes 
Turned  not  to  slumber  or  repose. 
Like  Earth  with  all  her  hills  bereft 

Of  Indra's  guiding  care. 
Ayodhya  in  her  sorrow  left 

By  him,  the  high  souled  heir, 
Was  bowed  by  fear  and  sorrow's  force, 

And  shook  with  many  a  throe, 
While  warrior,  elephant,  and  horse 

Sent  up  the  cry  of  woe. 


CANTO  XLII. 


DAgARATHA'S  LAMENT. 

While  yet  the  dust  was  seen  afar 
That  marked  the  course  of  Rama's  car, 
The  glory  of  Ikshvaku's  race 
Turned  not  away  his  eager  face. 
While  yet  his  duteous  son  he  saw 
He  could  not  once  his  gaze  withdraw, 
But  rooted  to  the  spot  remained 
With  eyes  that  after  Rama  strained. 
But  when  that  dust  no  more  he  viewed, 
Fainting  he  fell  by  grief  subdued. 

i  Seep.  72. 

8  Four    stars  of    the  sixteenth  lunar 
aster  ism. 


To  his  right  hand  Kausalya  went, 
And  ready  aid  the  lady  lent, 
While  Bharat's  loving  mother  tried 
To  raise  him  on  the  other  side. 
The  king,  within  whose  ordered  soul 
Justice  and  virtue  held  control, 
To  Queen  Kaikeyi  turned  and  said, 
With  every  sense  disquieted  : 
*  Touch  me  not,  thou  whose  soul  can  plot 
All  sin.  Kaikeyi,  touch  me  not. 
No  loving  wife,  no  friend  to  me, 
I  ne'er  again  would  look  on  thee  ; 
Ne'er  from  this  day  have  aught  to  do 
With  thee  and  all  thy  retinue  ; 
Thee  whom  no  virtuous  thoughts  restrain, 
Whose  selfish  heart  seeks  only  g  dn. 
The  hand  I  laid  in  mine,  O  dame, 
The  steps  we  took  around  the  flame,1 
And  all  that  links  thy  life  to  mine 
Here  and  hereafter  I  resign. 
If  Bharat  too.  thy  darling  son, 
Joy  in  the  rule  thy  art  has  won, 
Ke'er  may  the  funeral  offerings  paid 
By  his  false  hand  approach  my  shade.' 
Then  while  the  dust  upon  him  hung, 
The  monarch  to  Kausalya  clung, 
And  she  with  mournful  steps  and  slo\r 
Turned  t  j  the  palace,  worn  with  woe. 
As  one  whose  hand  has  touched  the  fire, 
Or  slain  a  Brahman  in  his  ire, 
He  felt  his  heart  with  sorrow  torn 
Still  thinking  of  his  son  forlorn. 
Each  step  was  torture,  as  the  road 
The  traces  >  f  the  chariot  showed, 
And  as  the  shadowed  sun  grows  dim 
So  cure  and  anguish  darkened  him. 
He  raised  a  cry,  by  woe  distraught, 
As  of  his  son  again  he  thought, 
And  judging  that  the  car  had  sped 
Beyond  the  city,  thus  he  said  : 
'  I  still  behold  the  foot-prints  made 
By  the  good  horses  that  conveyed 
My  son  afar  :  these  marks  I  see, 
But  high-soiiledRama,  where  is  he? 
Ah  me,  my  son !  my  rirst  and  best, 
On  pleasant  couches  wont  to  rest, 
With  limbs  perfumed  with  sandal,  fanned 
By  many  a  beauty's  tender  hand  : 
Where  will  he  lie  with  log  or  stone 
Beneath  him  for  a  pillow  thrown, 
To  leave  at  morn  his  earthy  bed, 
Neglected,  and  with  dust  o'erspread, 
As  from  the  flood  with  sigh  and  pant 
Comes  forth  the  husband  elephant? 
The  men  who  make  the  woods  their  home 
Shall  see  the  long- armed  hero  roam 
Roused  from  his  bed,  though  lord  of  all, 
In  semblance  of  a  friendless  thrall. 
Janak's  dear  child  who  ne'er  has  met 

1  In  the  marriage  service. 


Canto  XLIIL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


With  aught  save  joy  and  comfort  yet, 
Will  reach  to-day  the  forest,  worn 
And  wearied  with  the  brakes  of  thorn. 
Ah,  gentle  girl,  of  woods  unskilled, 
How  will  her  heart  with  dread  be  rilled 
At  the  wild  beasts'  deep  roaring  there, 
Whose  voices  lift  the  shuddering  hair  ! 
Kaikevi,  glory  in  thy  gain, 
And,  widow  queen,  begin  to  reign  : 
No  will,  no  power  to  live  have  I 
When  my  brave  son  no  more  is  nigh.' 

Thus  pouring  forth  laments,  the  king 
Girt  by  the  people's  crowded  ring, 
Entered  the  noble  bower  like  one 
New-bathed  when  funeral  rites  are  done. 
Where'er  he  looked  naught  met  his  gaze 
But  empty  houses,  courts,  and  ways. 
Closed  were  the  temples  :  countless  feet 
No  longer  trod  the  royal  street, 
And  thinking  of  his  son  he  viewed 
Men  weak  and  worn  and  woe-subdued. 
As  sinks  the  sun  into  a  cloud, 
So  passed  he  on,  and  wept  aloud, 
Within  that  house  no  more  to  be 
The  dwelling  of  the  banished  three, 
Brave  Rama,  his  Vedehan  bride, 
And  Lakshman  by  his  brother's  side : 
Like  broad  still  waters,  when  the  king 
Of  all  the  birds  that  ply  the  wing 
Has  swooped  from  heaven  and  bnrne  away 
The  glittering  snakes  that  made  them  gay. 
With  choking  sobs  and  voice  half  spent 
The  king  renewed  his  sad  lament : 
With  broken  utterance  faint  and  low 
Scarce  could  he  speak  these  words  of  woe : 
'  My  steps  to  Rama's  mother  guide, 
And  place  me  by  Kausalya's  side : 
There,  only  there  my  heart  may  know 
Some  little  respite  from  my  woe.' 

The  warders  of  the  palace  led 
The  monarch,  when  his  words  were  said, 
To  Queen  Kausalya's  bower,  and  there 
Laid  him  with  reverential  care. 
But  while  he  rested  on  the  bed 
Still  was  his  soul  disquieted. 
In  grief  he  tossed  his  arms  on  high 
Lamenting  with  a  piteous  cry  : 
'  O  Kama,  Rama,'  thus  said  he, 
'  My  son,  thou  hast  forsaken  me. 
High  bliss  awaits  those  favoured  men 
Left  living  in  Ayodhya  then, 
Whose  eyes  shall  see  my  son  once  more 
Returning  when  the  time  is  o'er.' 
Then  came  the  night,  whose  hated  gloom 
Fell  on  him  like  the  night  of  doom. 
At  midnight  Dasaratha  cried 
To  Queen  Kausalya  by  his  side : 
'  I  see  thee  not,  Kausalya  ;  lay 
Thy  gentle  hand  in  mine,  I  pray. 
When  Rama  left  his  home  my  sight 
Went  with  him,  nor  returns  to-night.' 


CANTO  XLIII. 

KAU& AL  YfA'S  LAMENT. 

Kausalya  saw  the  monarch  lie 
Witii  drooping  frame  and  failing  eye, 
And  for  her  banished  son  distressed 
With  these  sad  words  her  lord  addressed  : 
*  Kaikevi,  cruel,  false,  arid  vile 
Has  cast  the  venom -of  her  guile 
( )n  Rama  lord  of  men,  and  she 
Will  ravage  like  a  snake  set  free  ; 
And  more  and  more  my  soul  alarm, 
Like  a  dire  serpent  bent  on  harm. 
For  triumph  crowns  each  dark  intent, 
And  Rama  to  the  wild  is  sent. 
Ah,  were  he  doomed  but  here  to  stray 
Begging  his  food  from  day  to  day, 
Or  do,  enslaved,  Kaikeyi's  will, 
This  were  a  boon,  a  comfort  still. 
But  she,  as  chose  her  cruel  hate, 
Has  hurled  him  from  his  high  estate. 
As  Brahmans  when  the  moon  is  new 
Cast  to  the  ground  the  demons'  due.1 
Tne  long-armed  hero,  like  the  lord 
Of  Nagas,  with  his  bow  and  sword 
Begins,  I  ween,  his  forest  life 
With  Lakshman  and  his  faithful  wife. 
Ah,  how  will  fare  the  exiles  now, 
Whom,  moved  by  Queen  Kaikeyi,  thou 
Hast  sent  in  forests  to  abide, 
Bred  in  delights,  by  woe  untried  ? 
Far  banished  when  their  lives  are  young, 
With  the  fair  fruit  before  them  hung, 
Deprived  of  all  their  rank  that  suits, 
How  will  they  live  on  grain  and  roots? 
O,  that  my  years  of  woe  were  passed, 
And  the  glad  hour  were  conie  at  last 
When  1  shall  see  my  children  dear, 
Rama,  his  wife,  arid  Lakshman  here  ! 
When  shall  Ayodhya,  wild  witn  glee, 
Again  those  mighty  heroes  see, 
And  decked  with  wreaths  her  banners  wave 
To  welcome  home  the  true  and  brave  ? 
When  will  the  beautiful  city  view 
With  happy  eyes  the  lordly  two 
Returning,  joyful  as  the  main 
When  the  dear  moon  is  full  again? 
When,  like  some  mighty  bull  who  leads 
The  cow  exulting  through  the  meads, 
Will  Rama  through  the  city  ride, 
Strong-armed,  with  Sita  at  his  side  ? 
When  will  ten  thousand  thousand  meet 
And  crowd  Ayodhya's  royal  street, 
And  grain  in  joyous  welcome  throw 
Upon  my  sons  who  tame  the  foe  ? 
When  with  delight  shall  youthful  bands 
Of  Brahman  maidens  in  their  hands 


1  The  husks  and  ehaif  of  the  rice  offered 
to  the  Gods, 


146 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


Bear  fruit  and  flowers  in  goodly  show, 
And  circling  round  Ayodhya  go  ? 
With  ripened  judgment  of  a  sage, 
And  godlike  in  his  blooming  age, 
When  shall  my  virtuous  son  appear, 
Like  kindly  rain,  our  hearts  to  cheer  T 
Ah,  in  a  former  life,  I  ween, 
This  hand  of  mine,  most  base  and  mean, 
Has  dried  the  udders  of  the  kine 
And  left  the  thirsty  calves  to  pine, 
Hence,  as  the  lion  robs  the  cow, 
Kaikeyi  makes  me  childless  now, 
Exulting  from  her  feebler  foe 
To  rend  the  son  she  cherished  so. 
I  had  but  him,  in  Scripture  skilled, 
With  every  grace  his  soul  was  tilled. 
Now  not  a  joy  has  life  to  give, 
And  robbed  of  him  I  would  not  live: 
Yea,  all  my  days  are  dark  and  drear 
If  he,  my  darling,  be  not  near, 
And  Lakshman  brave,  my  heart  to  cheer. 
As  for  my  son  I  mourn  and  yearn, 
The  quenchless  flames  of  anguish  burn 

And  kill  me  with  the  pain, 
As  in  the  summer's  noontide  blaze 
The  glorious  Day-God  with  his  rays 

Consumes  the  parching  plain.'    • 

CANTO  XLIV. 


SDMITRA'S  SPEECH. 

Kausalya  ceased  her  sad  lament, 
Of  beauteous  dames  most  excellent. 
Sumitra  who  to  duty  clave, 
In  righteous  words  this  answer  gave  : 
'  Dear  Queen,  all  noble  virtues  grace 
Thy  son,  of  men  the  first  in  place. 
Why  dost  thou  shed  these  tears  of  woe 
With  bitter  grief  lamenting  so  1 
[f  Rama,  leaving  royal  sway 
Has  hastened  to  the  woods  away, 
'Tis  for  his  high-souled  father's  sake 
That  he  his  premise  may  not  break. 
He  to  the  path  of  duty  clings 
Which  lordly  fruit  hereafter  brings— 
The  path  to  which  the  righteous  cleave— 
For  him,  dear  Queen,  thou  shouldst  not 

grieve. 

And  Lakshman  too.  the  blameless-souled, 
The  same  high  course  with  him  will  hold, 
And  mighty  bliss  on  him  shall  wait, 
So  tenderly  compassionate. 
And  Sita,  bred  with  tender  care, 
Well  knows  what  toils  await  her  there, 
But  in  her  love  she  will  not  part 
From  Kama  of  the  virtuous  heart. 
Now  has  thy  son  through  all  the  world 
The  banner  of  his  fame  unfurled  : 
True,  modest,  careful  of  his  vow, 


What  has  he  left  to  aim  at  now  ? 
The  sun  will  mark  his  mighty  soul, 
His  wisdom,  sweetness,  self-control, 
Will  spare  from  pain  his  face  and  limb, 
And  with  soft  radiance  shine  for  him. 
For  him  through  forest  glades  shall  spring 
A  soft  auspicious  breeze,  and  bring 
Its  tempered  heat  and  cold  to  play 
Around  him  ever  night  and  day. 
The  pure  cold  moonbeams  shall  delight 
The  hero  as  he  sleeps  at  night, 
And  soothe  him  with  the  soft  caress 
Of  a  fond  parent's  tenderness. 
To  him,  the  bravest  of  the  brave, 
His  heavenly  arms  the  Brahman  gave, 
When  fierce  Suvahu  dyed  the  plain 
With  his  life-blood  by  Rama  slain. 
Still  trusting  to  his  own  right  arm 
Thy  hero  son  will  fear  no  harm  : 
As  in  his  father's  palace,  he 
In  the  wild  woods  will  dauntless  be. 
Whene'er  he  lets  his  arrows  fly 
His  stricken  f oemen  fall  and  die : 
And  is  that  prince  of  peerless  worth 
Too  weak  to  keep  and  sway  the  earth? 
His  sweet  pure  soul,  his  beauty's  charm, 
His  hero  heart,  his  warlike  arm, 
Will  soon  redeem  his  rightful  reign 
When  from  the  woods  he  comes  again, 
The  Brahmans  on  the  prince's  head 
King-making  drops  shall  quickly  shed, 
And  Sita,  Earth,  and  Fortune  share 
The  glories  which  await  the  heir. 
For  him,  when  forth  his  chariot  swept, 
The  crowd  that  thronged  Ayodhya  wept, 
With  agonizing  woe  distressed. 
With  him  in  hermit's  mantle  dressed 
In  guise  of  Sita  Lakshmi  went, 
And  none  his  glory  may  prevent. 
Yea,  naught  to  him  is  high  or  hard, 
Before  whose  steps,  to  be  his   guard, 
Lakshman,  the  best  who  draws  the  bow, 
With  spear,  shaft,  sword  rejoiced  to  go. 
His  wanderings  in  the  forest  o'er, 
Thine  eyes  shall  see  thy  sou  once  more, 
Quit  thy  faint  heart,  thy  grief  dispel, 
For  this,  O  Queen,  is  truth  I  tell. 
Thy  son  returning,  moonlike,  thence, 
Shall  at  thy  feet  do  reverence, 
And,  blest  and  blameless  lady,  thou 
Shalt  see  his  head  to  touch  them  bow, 
Yea,  thou  shalt  see  thy  son  made  king 
When  he  returns  with  triumphing, 
And  how  thy  happy  eyes  will  brim 
With  tears  of  joy  to  look  on  him  ! 
Thou,  blameless  lady,  shouldst  the  whole 
Of  the  sad  people  here  console  : 
Why  in  thy  tender  heart  allow 
This  bitter  grief  to  harbour  now  ? 
As  the  long  banks  of  cloud  distil 
Their  water  when  they  see  the  hill, 


Canto  XLV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


147 


So  shall  the  dropg  of  rapture  run 
From  thy  glad  eyes  to  see  thy  son 
Returning,  as  he  lowly  bends 
To  greet  thee,  girt  by  all  his  friends.' 

Thus  soothing,  kindly  eloquent, 
With  every  hopeful  argument 
Kausalya's  heart  by  sorrow  rent, 

Fair  Queen  Sumitra  ceased. 
Kausalya  heard  each  ple-.isant  plea, 
And  grief  began  to  leave  her  free, 
As  the  light  clouds  of  autumn  flee, 

Their  watery  stores  decreased. 


CANTO  XLV. 


THE  TAMASA'. 


Their  tender  love  the  people  drew 
To  follow  Rama  brave  and  true, 
The  high-souled  hero,  as  he  went 
Forth  from  his  home  to  banishment. 
The  king  himself  his  friends  obeyed, 
And  turned  him  homeward  as  they  prayed. 
But  yet  the  people  turned  not  back, 
Still  close  on  Rama's  chariot  track. 
For  they  who  in  Ayodhya  dwelt 
For  him  such  fond  affection  felt, 
Decked  witli  all  grace  and  glories  high, 
The  dear  full  moon  of  every  eye. 
Though  much  his  people  prayed  and  wept, 
Kakutstha's  son  his  purpose  kept, 
And  still  his  journey  would  pursue 
To  keep  the  king  his  father  true. 
Deep  in  the  hero's  bosom  sank 
Their  love,  whose  signs  his  glad  eye  drank. 
He  spoke  to  cheer  them,  as  his  own 
Dear  children,  in  a  loving  tone  : 
*  If  ye  would  grant  my  fond  desire, 
Give  Bharat  now  that  love  entire 
And  reverence  shown  to  me  by  all 
Who  dwell  within  Ayodhya's  wall. 
For  he,  Kaikeyi's  darling  son, 
His  virtuous  career  will  run. 
And  ever  bound  by  duty's  chain 
Consult  your  weal  and  bliss  and  gain. 
In  judgment  old,  in  years  a  child, 
With  hero  virtues  meek  and  mild, 
A  fitting  lord  is  he  to  cheer 
His  people  and  remove  their  fear. 
In  him  all  kingly  gifts  abound, 
More  noble  than  in  me  are  found : 
Imperial  prince,  well  proved  and  tried — 
Obey  him  as  your  lord  and  guide. 
And  grant,  I  pray,  the  boon  I  ask  : 
To  please  the  king  be  still  your  task, 
That  his  fond  heart,  while  I  remain 
Far  in  the  woods,  may  feel  no  pain.' 

The  more  he  showed  his  will  to  tread 
The  path  where  filial  duty  led, 


'he  more  the  people,  round  him  thronged, 
'or  their  dear  Rama's  empire  longed, 
till  more  attached  his  followers  grew, 
\.s  Rama,  with  his  brother,  drew 
^he  people  with  his  virtues'  ties, 
lamenting  all  with  tear-dimmed  eyes, 
"'he  saintly  twice-born,  triply  old 
n  glory,  knowledge,  seasons  told, 
With  hoary  heads  that  shook  and  bowed, 
?heir  voices  raised  and  spake  aloud: 
O  steeds,  who  best  and  noblest  are, 
Who  whirl  so  swiftly  Rama's  car, 

o  not,  return :  we  call  on  you  : 

e  to  your  master  kind  and  true. 
?or  speechless  things  are  swift  to  hear, 
And  naught  can  match  a  horse's  ear. 
)  generous  steeds,  return,  when  thus 
fou  hear  the  cry  of  all  of  us. 
Sach  vow  he  keeps  most  firm  and  sure, 
And  duty  makes  his  spirit  pure. 
Sack  with  our  chief !  no  t  wood- ward  hence ; 
5ack  to  his  royal  residence  ! ' 

Soon  as  he  saw  the  aged  band. 
Sxolaiming  in  their  misery,  stand, 
And  their  sad  cries  around  him  rang, 
Swift  from  his  chariot  Rama  sprang. 
Then,  still  upon  his  journey  bent, 
With  Sita  and  with  Lakshman  went 
The  hero  by  the  old  men's  side 
Suiting  to  theirs  his  shortened  stride. 
He  could  not  pass  the  twice-born  throng 
As  weariedly  they  walked  along: 
With  pitying  heart,  with  tender  eye, 
He  could  not  in  his  chariot  fly. 
When  the  steps  of  Kama  viewed 
That  still  his  onward  course  pursued, 
Woe  shook  the  troubled  heart  of  each, 
And  burnt  with  grief  th  ey  spoke  this  speech  • 

« With  thee,  O  Rama,  to  the  wood 
All  Brahmans  go  and  Brahmanhood  : 
Borne  on  our  aged  shoulders,  see, 
Our  fires  of  worship  go  with  thee. 
Bright  canopies  that  lend  their  shade 
In  Vajapeya1  rites  displayed, 
In  plenteous  store  are  borne  behind 
Like  cloudlets  in  the  autumn  wind. 
No  shelter  from  the  sun  hast  thou, 
And,  lest  his  fury  burn  thy  brow, 
These  sacrificial  shades  we  bear 
Shall  aid  thee  in  the  noontide  glare. 
Our  hearts,  who  ever  loved  to  pore 
On  sacred  text  and  Vedic  lore, 
Now  all  to  thee,  beloved,  turn, 
And  for  a  life  in  forests  yearn. 
Deep  in  our  aged  bosoms  lies 
The  Vedas'  lore,  the  wealth  we  prize, 
There  still,  like  wives  at  home,  shall  dwell, 
Whose  love  and  truth  protect  them  well. 

1  An  important  sacrifice  at  which  seven- 
teen victims  were  immolated, 


143 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


To  follow  thee  our  hearts  are  bent ; 

We  need  not  plan  or  argument. 

All  else  in  duty's  law  we  slight, 

For  following  thee  is  following  right. 

O  noble  Prince,  retrace  thy  way  : 

O,  hear  us,  Rama,  as  we  lay, 

With  many  tears  and  many  prayers, 

Our  aged  heads  and  swan-white  hairs 

Low  in  the  dust  before  thy  feet ; 

O,  hear  us,  Rama,  we  entreat. 

Full  many  of  these  who  with  thee  run, 

Their  sacred  rites  had  just  begun. 

Unfinished  yet  those  rites  remain  ; 

But  finished  if  thou  turn  again. 

All  rooted  life  and  things  that  move 

To  thee  their  deep  affection  prove. 

To  them,  when  warmed  by  love,  they  glow 

And  sue  to  thee,  some  favour  show 

Each  lowly  bush,  each  towering  tree 

Would  follow  too  for  love  of  thee. 

Bound  by  its  root  it  must  remain  ; 

But— all  it  can— its  boughs  complain, 

As  when  the  wild  wind  rushes  by 

It  tells  its  woe  in  groan  and  tign. 

No  more  through  air  the  gay  birds  flit, 

But,  foodless,  melancholy  sit 

Together  on  the  branch  and  call 

To  thee  whose  kind  heart  feels  for  all.' 

As  wailed  the  aged  Brahmans,  bent 
To  turn  him  back,  with  wild  lament, 
Seemed  Tamnsa  ht-r^elf  to  aid, 
Checking  his  progress,  as  they  prayed, 
Sumantra  from  the  chariot  freed 
With  ready  hand  each  weary  steed; 
He  groomed  them  with  the  utmost  heed, 

Their  limbs  he  bathed  and  dried, 
Then  led  them  forth  to  drink  and  feed 
At  pleasure  in  the  grassv  mead 
That  fringed  the  river  side. 

CANTO  XL VI. 
THE  HALT. 

When  Rama,  chief  of  Raghu's  race, 
Arrived  at  that  delightful  place, 
He  looked  on  Sita  first  and  then 
To  Lakshman  spake  the  lord  of  men  : 
'  Now  first  the  shades  of  night  descend 
Since  to  the  wilds  our  steps  we  bend. 
Joy  to  thee,  brother  1  do  not  grieve 
For  our  dear  home  and  all  we  leave. 
The  woods  unpeopled  seem  to  weep 
Around  us,  as  their  tenants  creep 
Or  fly  to  lair  and  den  and  nest, 
Both  bird  and  beast,  to  seek  their  rest. 
Me  thinks  Ayodhya's  royal  town 
Where  dwells  my  sire  of  high  renown, 
With  all  her  men  and  dames  to-night 
Will  mourn  us  vanished  from  their  sight. 


For,  by  his  virtues  won.  they  cling 
In  fond  affection  to  their  king, 
And  thee  and  me,  O  brave  and  true, 
And  Bharat  and  ^atrughna  too. 
I  for  my  sire  and  mother  feel 
Deep  sorrow  o'er  my  bosom  steal, 
Lest  mourning  us,  oppressed  with  fears, 
They  blind  their  eyes  with  endless  tears. 
Yet  Bharat  s  duteous  love  will  show 
Sweet  comfort  in  their  hours  of  woe, 
And  with  kind  words  their  hearts  sustain, 
Suggesting  duty,  bliss,  and  gain. 
I  mourn  my  parents  now  no  more  : 
1  count  dear  Bharat's  virtues  o'er, 
And  his  kind  love  and  care  dispel 
The  doubts  I  had,  and  all  is  well. 
And  thou  thy  duty  wouldst  not  shun, 
And,  following  me,  hast  nobly  done  ; 
Else,  bravest,  I  should  need  a  band 
Around  my  wife  as  guard  to  stand. 
On  this  first  night,  my  thirst  to  slake, 
Some  water  only  will  I  take  : 
Thus,  brother,  thus  my  will  decides, 
Though  varied  store  the  wood  provides.* 

Thus  having  said  to  Lakshman,  he 
Addressed  in  turn  Sumantra :  Be 
Most  diligent  to-night,  my  friend, 
And  with  due  care  thy  horses  tend.' 
The  sun  had  set :  Sumantra  tied 
His  noble  horses  side  by  side, 
Gave  store  of  grass  with  liberal  hand, 
And  rested  near  them  on  the  strand. 
Each  paid  the  holy  evening  rite, 
And  when  around'them  fell  the  night, 
The  charioteer,  with  Lakshman's  aid, 
A  lowly  bed  for  Rama  laid. 
To  Lakshman  Rama  bade  adieu, 
And  then  by  Mta's  side  he  threw 
His  limbs  upon  the  leafy  bed 
Their  care  upon  the  bank  had  spread. 
When  Lakshman  saw  the  couple  slept, 
8till  on  the  strand  his  watch  lie  kept, 
Still  with  Sumantra  there  conversed, 
And  Rama's  varied  gifts  rehearsed. 
All  night  he  watched,  nor  sought  repose, 
Till  on  the  earth  the  sun  arose : 
With  him  Sumantra  stayed  awake, 
And  still  of  Rama's  virtues  spake. 
Thus,  near  the  river's  grassy  shore 
Which  herds  unnumbered  wandered  o'er, 
Repose,  untroubled,  Rama  found, 
And  all  the  people  lay  around. 
The  glorious  hero  left  his  bed, 
Looked  on  the  sleeping  crowd,  and  said 
To  Lakshman.  whom  each  lucky  line 
Marked  out  for  bliss  with  surest  sign  : 

*  O  brother  Lakshman,  look  on  these 
Reclining  at  the  roots  of  trees  ; 
All  care  of  house  and  home  resigned, 
Caring  for  us  with  heart  and  mind, 
These  people  of  the  city  yearn 


Canto  XLVIL 


THE  MAM  AY  AN. 


149 


To  see  us  to  our  home  return : 

To  quit  their  lives  will  they  consent, 

But  never  leave  their  firm  intent. 

Come,  while  they  all  unconscious  sleep, 

Let  us  upon  the  chariot  leap, 

And  swiftly  on  our  journey  speed 

Where  naught  our  progress  may  impede, 

That  these  fond  citizens  who  roam 

Far  fr.,m  Ikshvaku's  ancient  home, 

No  more  may  sleep  'neath  bush  and  tree, 

Following  still  for  love  of  me. 

A  prince  with  tender  care  should  heal 

The  self  brought  woes  his  people  feel, 

And  never  let  his  subjects  share 

The  burthen  he  is  forced  to  bear.' 

Then  Lakshman  to  the  chief  replied, 
'Who  stood  like  Justice  by  his  side  : 
« Thy  rede,  O  sage,  I  well  commend  : 
Without  delay  the  car  ascend.' 
Then  Rj'ima  to  Sumantra  spoke  : 
'  Thy  rapid  steeds,  I  pray  thee,  yoke. 
Hence  to  the  forest  will  I  go  : 
Away,  my  lord,  and  be  not  slow.' 

Sumantra,  urged  to  utmost  speed, 
Yoked  to  the  car  each  generous  steed, 
And  then,  with  hand  to  hand  applied, 
He  came  before  the  chief  and  cried  : 
'  Hail,  Prince,  whom  mighty  arms  adorn, 
Hail,  bvavee-t  of  the  chariot-borne  1 
With  Sita  and  thy  brother  thou 
Mayst  mount:  the  car  is  ready  now. 

The  hero  clomb  the  car  with  haste: 
His  bow  and  gear  within  were  placed, 
And  quick  the  eddying  flood  he  passed 
Of  Tamasa  whose  waves  run  fast. 
Soon  as  he  touched  the  farther  side, 
Tiiat  strong-armed  hero,  glorified, 
He  found  a  road  both  wide  and  clear, 
Where  e'en  the  timid  naught  couldfear. 
Then,  that  the  crowd  might  be  misled, 
Thus  Rama  to  Sumantra  said: 
«  Speed  north  a  while,  then  hasten  back, 
Returning  in  thy  former  track, 
That  so  the  people  may  not  learn 
The  course  I  follow  :  drive  and  turn. 

Sumantra,  at  the  chief's  behest, 
Quick  to  the  task  himself  addressed  ; 
Then  near  to  Rama  came,  and  showed 
The  chariot  ready  for  the  road. 
With  Sita,  then,  the  princely  two, 
Who  o'er  the  line  of  Raghu  threw 
A  glory  ever  bright  and  new, 

Upon  the  chariot  stood. 
.     Sumantra  fast  and  faster  drove 
His  horses,  who  in  fleetness  strove 
Still  onward  to  the  distant  grove, 
The  hermit-hauuted  wood. 


CANTO  XLVIL 


THE  CITIZENS'  RETURN. 

The  people,  when  the  morn  shone  fair, 

Arose  to  find  no  Rama  there. 

Then  fear  and  numbing  grief  subdued 

The  senses  of  the  multitude. 

The  woe-born  tears  were  running  fast 

As  all  around  their  eyes  they  cast, 

And  sadly  looked,  but  found  no  trace 

Of  Rama,  searching  every  place. 

Bereft  of  Rama  good  and  wise. 

With  drooping  cheer  and  weeping  eyes, 

Each  woe-distracted  sage  gave  vent 

To  sorrow  in  his  wild  lament  : 

4  Woe  worth  the  sleep  that  stole  our  sense 

With  its  beguiling  influence, 

That  now  we  look  in  vain  for  him 

Of  the  broad  chest  and  stalwart  limb! 

How  could  the  strong-armed  hero,  thus 

Deceiving  all,  abandon  us  1 

His  people  so  devoted  see. 

Yet  to  the  woods,  a  hermit,  flee  ? 

How  can  he,  wont  our  hearts  to  cheer, 

As  a  fond  sire  his  children  dear,— 

How  can  the  pride  of  Raghu's  race 
Fly  from  us  to  some  desert  pi  nee  I 
Here  let  us  all  for  death  prepare, 
Or  on  the  last  great  journey  fare  j1 
Of  Rama  our  dear  lord  bereft, 
What  profit  in  our  lives  is  left: 
Huge  trunks  of  trees  around  us  lie. 
With  roots  and  branches  sere  and  dry, 

;  Come  let  us  set  these  logs  on  fire 

I  And  throw  our  bodies  on  the  pyre. 
What  shall  we  speak?    How  can  we  say 
We  followed  Rama  on  his  way, 
The  mighty  chief  whose  arm  is  strong, 

1  Who  sweetly  speaks,  who  thinks  no  wrong? 
Ayodhya's  town  with  sorrow  dumb, 
Without  our  lord  will  see  us  come, 
And  hopeless  misery  will  strike 
Elder,  and  child,  and  dame  alike. 
Forth  with  that  peerless  chief  we  came, 
Whose  mighty  heart  is  aye  the  same : 
How,  reft  of  him  we  love,  shall  we 
Returning  dare  that  town  to  see  ? ' 

Complaining  thus  with  varied  cry 
They  tossed  tUeir  aged  arms  on  high, 
And  their  sad  hearts  with  grief  were  wrung, 
Like  cows  who  sorrow  for  their  young. 
A  while  they  followed  on  tiie  road 
Which  traces  of  his  chariot  showed, 
But  when  at  length  those  traces  failed, 
A  deep  despair  their  hearts  assailed. 

1  The  great  pilgrimage  to  the  Him&- 
layas,  in  order  to  die  there. 


150 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  II. 


The  chariot  marks  no  more  discerned, 

The  hopeless  sages  backward  turned  : 

'  Ah,  what  is  this  ?    What  can  we  more  f 

Fate  stops  the  way,  and  all  is  o'er.' 

With  wearied  hearts,  in  grief  and  shame 

They  took  the  road  by  which  they  came, 

And  reached  Ayodhya's  city,  where 

From  side  to  side  was  naught  but  care, 

With  troubled  spirits  quite  cast  down 

They  looked  upon  the  royal  town, 

And  from  their  eyes,  oppressed  with  woe, 

Their  tears  again  began  to  flow. 

Of  Rama  reft,  the  city  wore 

No  look  of  beauty  as  before. 

Like  a  dull  river  or  a  lake 

By  Garud  robbed  of  every  snake. 

Dark,  dismal  as  the  moonless  sky, 

Or  as  a  sea  whose  bed  is  dry, 

So  sad,  to  every  pleasure  dead, 

They  saw  the  town,  disquieted, 

On  to  their  houses,  high  and  vast, 

Where  stores    of    precious  wealth    were 

massed, 
The  melancholy  Brahmans  passed, 

Their  hearts  with  anguish  cleft : 
Aloof  from  all,  they  came  not  near 
To  stranger  or  to  kinsman  dear, 
Showing  in  faces  blank  and  drear. 

That  not  one  joy  was  left. 

CANTO  XLVIII. 


THE  WOMEN'S  LAMENT. 

When  those  who  forth  with  Rama  went 
Back  to  the  town  their  steps  had  bent, 
It  seemed  that  death  had  touched  and 

chilled 

Those  hearts  which  piercing  sorrow  filled. 
Each  to  his  several  mansion  came, 
And  girt  by  children  and  his  dame, 
From  his  sad  eyes  the  water  shed 
That  o'er  his  cheek  in  torrents  spread. 
All  joy  was  fled  :  oppressed  with  cares 
No  bustling  trader  showed  his  wares. 
Each  shop  had  lost  its  brilliant  look, 
Each  householder  forbore  to  cook. 
No  hand  with  joy  its  earnings  told, 
None  cared  to  win  a  wealth  of  gold, 
And  scarce  the  youthful  mother  smiled 
To  see  her  first,  her  new-born  child. 
In  every  house  a  woman  wailed, 
And  her  returning  lord  assailed 
With  keen  taunt  piercing  like  the  steel 
That  bids  the  tusked  monster  kneel : 
'  What  now  to  them  is  wedded  dame, 
What  house  and  home  and  dearest  aim, 
Or  son,  or  bliss,  or  gathered  store, 
Whose  eyes  on  Rama  look  no  more  ! 
There  is  but  one  in  ull  the  earth, 


One  man  alone  of  real  worth, 

Lakshman,  who  follows,  true  and  good, 

Rama,  with  Sita,  through  the  wood. 

Made  holy  for  all  time  we  deem 

Each  pool  and  fountain,  lake  and  stream, 

If  great  Kakutstha's  son  shall  choose 

Their  water  for  his  bath  to  use. 

Each  forest,  dark  with  lovely  trees, 

Shall  yearn  Kakutstha's  son  to  please  ; 

Each  mountain  peak  and  woody  hill, 

Each  mighty  flood  and  mazy  rill, 

Each  rocky  height,  each  shady  grove 

Where  the  blest  feet  of  Rama  rove, 

Shall  gladly  welcome  with  the  best 

Of  all  they  have  their  honoured  guest. 

The  trees  that  clustering  blossoms  bear, 

And  bright-hued  buds  to  gem  their  hair, 

The  heart  of  Rama  shall  delight, 

And  cheer  him  on  the  breezy  height. 

For  him  the  upland  slopes  will  show 

The  fairest  roots  and  fruit  that  grow, 

And  all  their  wealth  before  him  fling 

Ere  the  due  hour  of  ripening. 

For  him  each  earth-upholding  hill 

Its  crystal  water  shall  distil, 

And  all  its  floods  shall  be  displayed 

In  many  a  thousand-hued  cascade. 

Where  Rama  stands  is  naught  to  fear, 

No  danger  comes  if  he  be  near  ; 

For  all  who  live  on  him  depend, 

The  world's  support,  and  lord,  and  friend. 

Ere  in  too  distant  wilds  he  stray, 

Let  us  to  Rama  speed  away, 

For  rich  reward  on  those  will  wait 

Who  serve  a  prince  of  soul  so  great. 

We  will  attend  on  Sita  there  ; 

Be  Raghu's  son  your  special  care.' 

The  city  dames,  with  grief  distressed, 

Thus  once  again  their  lords  addressed  : 

'  Rama  shall  be  your  guard  and  guide, 

And  Sita  will  for  us  provide. 

For  who  would  care  to  linger  here, 

Where  all  is  sad  and  dark  and  drear  ? 

Who,  mid  the  mourners,  hope  for  blisa 

In  a  poor  soulless  town  like  this  ? 

If  Queen  Kaikeyi's  treacherous  ski, 

Our  lord  expelled,  the  kingdom  win, 

We  heed  not  sons  or  golden  store, 

Our  life  itself  we  prize  no  more. 

If  she,  seduced  by  lust  of  sway, 

Her  lord  and  son  could  cast  away, 

Whom  would  she  leave  unharmed,  the  base 

Defiler  of  her  royal  race  ? 

We  swear  it  by  our  children  dear, 

We  will  not  dwell  as  servants  here  ; 

If  Queen  Kaikeyi  live  to  reign, 

We  will  not  in  her  realm  remain. 

Bowed  down  by  her  oppressive  hand, 

The  helpless,  Iprdless,  godless  land, 

Cursed  for  Kaikeyi's  guilt  will  fall, 

And  swift  destruction  seize  it  all. 


Canto  L. 


THE  RAMAYAR. 


151 


For,  Rama  forced  from  home  to  fly, 
The  king  his  sire  will  surely  die, 
And  when  the  king  has  breathed  his  last 
Ruin  will  doubtless  follow  fast. 
Sad,  robbed  of  merits,  drug  the  cup 
And  drink  the  poisoned  mixture  up, 
Or  share  the  exiled  Rama's  lot, 
Or  seek  some  land  that  knows  her  not. 
No  reason,  but  a  false  pretence 
Drove  Rama,  Sita,  Lakshraan  hence, 
And  we  to  Bharat  have  been 'given 
Like  cattle  to  the  shambles  driven.' 

While  in  each  house  the  women,  pained 
At  loss  of  Rama,  still  complained, 
Sank  to  his  rest  the  Lord  of  Day, 
And  night  through  all  the  sky  held  sway. 
The  fires  of  worship  all  were  cold, 
No  text  was  hummed,  no  tale  was  told, 
And  shades  of  midnight  gloom  came  down 
Enveloping  the  mournful  town. 
Still,  sick  at  heart,  the  women  shed, 
As  for  a  son  or  husband  fled, 
For  Rama  tears,  disquieted  : 

No  child  was  loved  as  he, 
And  all  Ayodhya,  where  the  feast, 
Music,  and  song,  and  dance  had  ceased, 

And  merriment  and  glee, 
Where  every  merchant's  store  was  closed 
That  erst  its  glittering  wares  exposed, 

Was  like  a  dried  up  sea. 

CANTO  XUX, 


THE  CROSSING  OF  THE  RIVERS. 

Now  Rama,  ere  the  night  was  fled, 
O'er  many  a  league  of  road  had  sped, 
Till,  as  his  course  he  onward  held, 
The  morn  the  shades  of  night  dispelled, 
The  rites  of  holy  dawn  he  paid, 
And  all  the  country  round  surveyed. 
He  saw,  as  still  he  hurried  through 
With  steeds  which  swift  as  arrows  flew, 
Hamlets  and  groves  with  blossoms  fair, 
And  fields  which  showed  the  tillers'  care, 
While  from  the  clustered  dwellings  near 
The  words  of  peasants  reached  his  ear : 
*  Fie  on  our  lord  the  king,  whose  soul 
Is  yielded  up  to  love's  control  ! 
Fie  on  the  vile  Kaikeyi !  Shame 
On  that  malicious  sinful  dame, 
Who,  l^eenly  bent  on  cruel  deeds, 
No  bounds  of  right  and  virtue  heeds, 
But  with  her  wicked  art  has  sent 
So  good  a  prince  to  banishment, 
Wise,  tender-hearted,  ruling  well 
His  senses,  in  the  woods  to  dwell. 
Ah  cruel  king  !  his  heart  of  steel 
For  his  own  son  no  love  could  i eel? 
11 


Who  with  the  sinless  Rama  parts, 
The  darling  of  the  people's  hearts.' 

These  words  he  heard  the  peasants  say, 
Who  dwelt  in  hamlets  by  the  way, 
And,  lord  of  all  the  realm  by  right, 
Through  Kosala  pursued  his  flight. 
Through^  the  auspicious  flood,  at  last, 
Of  Vedasruti's  stream  he  passed, 
And  onward  to  the  place  he  sped 
By  Saint  Agastya  tenanted. 
Still  on  for  many  an  hour  he  hied, 
And  crossed  the  stream  whose  cooling  tide 
Rolls  onward  till  she  meets  the  sea, 
The  herd-frequented  Gomati.1 
Borne  by  his  rapid  horses  o'er, 
He  reached  that  river's  farther  shore, 
And  Syandika'a,  whose  swan-loved  stream 
Resounded  with  the  peacock's  scream. 
Then  as  he  journeyed  on  his  road 
To  his  Videhan  bride  he  showed 
The  populous  land  which  Manu  old 
To  King  Ikshvaku  gave  to  hold. 
The  glorious  prince,  the  lord  of  men 
Looked  on  the  charioteer,  and  then 
Voiced  like  a  wild  swan,  loud  and  clear, 
He  spake  these  words  and  bade  him  hear: 
'  When  shall  I,  with  returning  feet 
My  father  and  my  mother  meet  ? 
When  shall  I  lead  the  hunt  once  more 
In  bloomy  woods  on  Sarju's  shore  ? 
Most  eagerly  I  long  to  ride 
Urging  the  chase  on  Sarju's  side, 
For  royal  saints  have  seen  no  blame 
In  this,  the  monarch's  matchless  game.' 

Thus  speeding  on,— no  rest  or  stay,— 
Ikshvaku's  son  pursued  his  way. 
Oft  his  sweet  voice  the  silence  broke, 
And  thus  on  varied  themes  he  spoke. 


CANTO  L. 
THE  HALT  UNDER  THE  INGUDP.* 

So  through  the  wide  and  fair  extent 
Of  Kosala  the  hero  went. 
Then  toward  Ayodhya  back  he  gazed, 
And  cried,  with  suppliant  hands  upraised: 
'  Farewell,  dear  city,  first  in  place, 
Protected  by  Kakutstha's  race  ! 
And  Gods,  who  in  thy  temples  dwell, 
And  keep  thine  ancient  citadel ! 
I  from  his  debt  my  sire  will  free, 
Thy  well-loved  towers  again  will  see, 
Arid,  coming  from  my  wild  retreat, 
Hy  mother  and  my  father  meet.' 


1  Known  to  Europeans  as  the  Goomtee* 
'  A  tree,  commonly  called  Ingua* 


152 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


Then  burning  grief  inflnmed  his  eye, 
As  his  right  arm  he  raised  on  high, 
And,  while  hot  tears  his  cheek  bedewed, 
Addressed  the  mournful  multitude  : 
'By  love  and  tender  pity  moved, 
Your  love  for  me  you  well  have  proved  ; 
Now  turn  again  with  joy,  and  win 
Success  in  all  your  hands  begin.' 

Before  the  high-souled  chief  they  bent, 
With  circling  steps  around  him  went, 
And  then  with  bitter  wailing,  they 
Departed  each  his  several  way. 
Like  the  great  sun  engulfed  by  night, 
The  hero  sped  beyond  their  sight, 
While  still  the  people  mourned  his  fate 
And  wept  aloud  disconsolate. 
The  car-borne  chieftain  passed  the  bound 
Of  Kosala's  delightful  ground. 
Where  grain  and  riches  bless  the  land, 
And  people  give  with  liberal  hand  : 
A  lovely  realm  unvexed  by  fear, 
Where     countless     shrines   and    stakes1 

appear : 

Where  mango-groves  and  gardens  grow, 
And  streams  of  pleasant  water  flow : 
Where  dwells  content  a  well-fed  race, 
And  countless  kine  the  meadows  grace  : 
Filled  with  the  voice  of  praise  and  prayer : 
Each  hamlet  worth  a  monarch's  care.* 
Before  hirn  three-pathed  Ganga  rolled 
Her  heavenly  waters  bright  arid  cold  ; 
O'er  her  pure  breast  no  weeds  were  spread, 
Her  banks  were  hermit-visited. 
The  car-borne  hero  saw  the  tide 
That  ran  with  eddies  multiplied, 
And  thus  the  charioteer  addressed  : 
'  Here  on  the  bank  to-day  we  rest. 
Not  distant  from  the  river,  see  1 
There  grows  a  lofty  Ingudi 
With  blossoms  thick  on  every  spray  : 
There  rest  we,  charioteer,  to-day. 
I  on  the  queen  of  floods  will  gaze, 
Whose  holy  stream  has  highest  praise, 
Where  deer,  and  bird,  and  glittering  snake, 
God,  Daitya,  bard  their  pastime  take.' 

Sumantra,  Lakshman  gave  assent, 
And  with  the  steeds  they  thither  went. 
When  Rama  reached  the  lovely  tree, 
With  Sita  and  with  Lakshman,  he 
Alighted  from  the  car  :  with  speed 
Sumantra  loosed  each  weary  steed, 
And.  hand  to  hand  in  reverence  laid, 
Stood  near  to  Rama  in  the  shade. 
Rama's  dear  friend,  renowned  by  fame, 
Who  of  Nishada  lineage  came, 
Guha,  the  mighty  chief,  adored 
Through  all  the  land  as  sovereign  lord, 
Soon  as  he  heard  that  prince  renowned 


1  Sacrificial  posts  to  which  the  victims 
were  tied, 


Was  resting  on  Nishadn,  ground, 
Begirt  by  counsellor  and  peer 
And  many  an  honoured  friend  drew  near. 
Soon  as  the  monarch  came  in  view, 
Kama  and  Lakshman  toward  him  flew. 
Then  Guha,  at  the  sight  distressed, 
His  arms  around  the  hero  pressed, 
Laid  both  his  hands  upon  his  head 
Bowed  to  those  lotus  feet,  and  said  : 
'  O  Rama,  make  thy  wishes  known, 
And  be  this  kingdom  as  thine  own. 
Who,  mighty-armed,  will  ever  see 
A  guest  so  dear  as  thou  to  me  ? ' 

He  placed  before  him  dainty  fare 
Of  every  flavour,  rich  and  rare, 
Brought  forth  the  gift  for  honoured  guest, 
And  thus  again  the  chief  addressed  : 
•  Welcome,  dear  Prince,  whose  arms  are 

strong  ; 

These  lands  and  all  to  thee  belong. 
Thy  servants  we,  our  lord  art  thou  ; 
Begin,  good  king,  thine  empire  now. 
See,  various  food  before  thee  placed, 
And  cups  to  drink  and  sweets  to  taste. 
For  thee  soft  beds  are  hither  borne, 
And  for  thy  horses  grass  and  corn.' 

To  Guha  as  he  pressed  and  prayed, 
Thus  Kaghu's  son  his  answer  made  : 
'  'Twas  aye  thy  care  my  heart  to  please 
With  honour,  love,  and  courtesies, 
And  friendship  brings  thee  now  to  greet 
Thy  guest  thus  humbly  on  thy  feet.' 

Again  the  hero  spake,  as  round 
The  king  his  shapely  arms  he  wound  : 
'  Guha,  I  see  that  all  is  well 
With  thee  and  those  who  with  thee  dwell; 
That  health  and  bliss  and  wealth  attend 
Thy  realm,  thyself,  and  every  friend. 
But  all  these  friendly  gifts  of  thine, 
Bound  to  refuse,  I  must  decline. 
Grass,  bark,  and  hide  my  only  wear, 
And  woodland  roots  and  fruit  my  fare, 
On  duty  all  my  heart  is  set ; 
I  seek  the  woods,  an  anchoret. 
A  little  grass  and  corn  to  feed 
The  horses — this  is  all  I  need. 
So  by  this  favour,  King,  alone 
Shall  honour  due  to  me  be  shown. 
For  these  good  steeds  who  brought  me  here 
Are  to  my  sire  supremely  dear  ; 
And  kind  attention  paid  to  these 
Will  honour  me  and  highly  please.' 

Then  Guha  quickly  bade  his  train 
Give  water  to  the  steeds,  and  grain. 
And  Kama,  ere  the  night  grew  dark, 
Paid  evening  rites  in  dress  of  bark, 
And  tasted  water,  on  the  strand, 
Drawn  from  the  stream  by  Lakshman'a 

hand. 

And  Lakshman  with  observance  meet 
Bathed  his  beloved  brother's  feet, 


Canto  LII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


153 


Who  rested  with  his  Maithil  spouse  : 
Then  sat  him  down  'neath  distant  boughs. 
And  Guha  with  his  bow  sat  near 
To  Lakshman  and  the  charioteer, 
And  with  the  prince  conversing  kept 
His  faithful  watch  while  Rama  slept. 
As  Dasaratha's  glorious  heir, 
Of  lofty  soul  and  wisdom  rare, 
Reclining  with  his  Sita  there 

Beside  the  river  lay— 
He  who  no  troubles  e'er  had  seen, 
Whose  life  a  life  of  bliss  had  been— 
That  night  beneath  the  branches  green 

Passed  pleasantly  away, 

CANTO  LI. 


LAKSHMAN'S  LAMENT. 

As  Lakshman  still;his  vigil  held 
By  unaffected  love  impelled, 
Guha,  whose  heart  the  sight  distressed, 
With  words  like  these  the  prince  addressed: 
*  Beloved  youth,  this  pleasant  bed 
Was  brought  for  thee,  for  thee  is  spread; 
On  this,  my  Prince,  thine  eyelids  close, 
And  heal  fatigue  with  sweet  repose. 
My  men  are  all  to  labour  trained, 
But  hardship  thou  hast  ne'er  sustained. 
All  we  this  night  our  watch  will  keep 
And  guard  Kakutstha's  son  asleep, 
In  all  the  world  there  breathes  not  one 
More  dear  to  me  than  Raghu's  son. 
The  words  I  speak,  heroic  youth, 
Are  true  :  I  swear  it  by  my  truth. 
Through  his  dear  grace  supreme  renown 
Will,  so  I  trust,  my  wishes  crown. 
So  shall  my  life  rich  store  obtain 
Of  merit,  blest  with  joy  and  gain. 
While  Raghu's  son  and  Sita  lie 
Entranced  in  happy  slumber,  I 
Will,  with  my  trusty  bow  in  hand, 
Guard  my  dear  friend  with  all  my  band. 
To  me,  who  oft  these  forests  range, 
Is  naught  therein  or  new  or  strange. 
We  could  with  equal  might  oppose 
A  four-fold  army  led  by  foes.' 

Then  royal  Lakshman  made  reply: 
'  With^thee  to  stand  as*guardian  nigh, 
Whose  faithful  soul  regards  the  right, 
Fearless  we  well  might  rest  to-night. 
But  how,  when  Rama  lays  his  head 
With  Sita  on  his  lowly  bed, — 
How  can  I  sleep?  how  can  I  care 
For  life,  or  aught  that's  bright  and  fair  ? 
Behold  the  conquering  chief,  whose  might 
Is  match  for  Gods  and  fiends  in  fight  j 
With  Sita  now  he  rests  his  head 
Asleep  on  grass  beneath  him  thread, 


Won  by  devotion,  text,  and  prayer, 
And  many  a  rite  performed  with  care, 
Chief  of  our  father's  sons  he  shines 
Well  marked,  like  him,   with  favouring 

signs. 

Brief,  brief  the  monarch's  life  will  be 
Now  his  dear  son  is  forced  to  flee ; 
And  quickly  will  the  widowed  state 
Mourn  for  her  lord  disconsolate. 
Each  mourner  there  has  wept  her  fill ; 
The  cries  of  anguish  now  are  still  : 
In  the  king's  hall  each  dame,  o'ercome 
With  weariness  of  woe  is  dumb. 
This  first  sad  night  of  grief,  I  ween, 
Will  do  to  death  each  sorrowing  queen: 
Scarce  is  Kausalya  left  alive; 
My  mother,  too,  can  scarce  survive. 
If  when  her  heart  is  fain  to  break, 
She  lingers  for  ^atrughna's  sake, 
Kausalya,  mother  of  the  chief, 
Must  sink  beneath  the  chilling  grief. 
That  town  which  countless  thousands  fill, 
Whose  hearts  with  love  of  Rama  thrill,— 
The  world's  delight,  so  rich  and  fair, — 
Grieved  for  the  king,  his  death  will  share. 
The  hopes  he  fondly  cherished,  crossed, 
Ayodhya's  throne  to  Rama  lost,— 
With  mournful  cries,  Too  late,  too  late  I 
The  king  my  sire  will  meet  his  fate. 
And  when  my  sire  has  passed  away, 
Most  happy  in  thair  lot  are  they, 
Allowed,  with  every  pious  care, 
Part  in  his  funeral  rites  to  bear. 
And  O,  may  we  with  joy  at  last,— 
These  years  of  forest  exile  past, — 
Turn  to  Ayodhya's  town  to  dwell 
With  him  who  keeps  his  promise  well !' 

While  thus  the  hero  mighty-souled, 
In  wild  lament  his  sorrow  told, 
Faint  with  the  load  that  on  him  lay, 
The  hours  of  darkness  passed  away. 
As  thus  the  prince,  impelled  by  zeal 
For  his  loved  brother,  prompt  to  feel 
Strong  yearnings  for  the  people's  weal, 

His  words  of  truth  outspake, 
King  Guha,  grieved  to  see  his  woe. 
Heart-stricken,  gave  his  tears  to  flow, 
Tormented  by  the  common  blow, 

Sad,  as  a  wounded  snake. 

CANTO  LII. 


THE  CROSSING  OF  GANGA'. 

Soon  as  the  shades  of  night  had  fled, 
Uprising  from  his  lowly  bed, 
Rama  the  famous,  broad  of  chest, 
His  brother  Lakshman  thus  addressed  : 
'  Now  swift  upsprings  the  Loi'd  of  Ligh, 
Aud  fled  is  venerable  night, 


154 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


That  dark-winged  bird  the  Koi'l  now 
Is  calling  from  the  topmost  bough, 
And  sounding  from  the  thicket  nigh 
Is  heard  the  peacock's  early  cry. 
Come,  cross  the  flood  that  seeks  the  sea, 
The  swiftly  flowing  Jahnavi.'1 

King  Guha  heard  his  speech,  agreed, 
And  called  his  minister  with  speed  : 
'A  boat,'  he  cried/swift,  strong,  and  fair, 
With  rudder,  oars,  and  men,  prepare, 
And  place  it  ready  by  the  shore 
To  bear  the  pilgrims  quickly  o'er.' 
Thus  Guha  spake :  his  followers  all 
Bestirred  them  at  their  master's  call  ; 
Then  told  the  king  that  ready  manned 
A  gay  boat  waited  near  the  strand. 
Then  Guha,  hand  to  hand  applied. 
With  reverence  thus  to  Rama  cried  : 
'  The  boat  is  ready  by  the  shore : 
How,  tell  me,  can  1  aid  thee  more  7 
O  lord  of  men,  it  waits  for  thee 
To  cross  the  flood  that  seeks  the  sea. 
O  godlike  keeper  of  thy  vow, 
Embark  :  the  boat  is  ready  now.' 
Then  Kama,  lord  of  glory  high, 
Thus  to  King  Guha  made  reply  : 
•Thanks  for  thy  gracious  care,  my  lord  : 
Now  let  the  gear  be  placed  on  board.' 
Each  bow-armed  chief,  in  mail  encased, 
Bound  sword  and  quiver  to  his  waist, 
And  then  with  Sita  near  them  hied 
Down  the  broad  river's  shelving  side. 
Then  with  raised  palms  the  charioteer, 
In  lowly  reverence  drawing  near, 
Cried  thus  to  Rama  good  and  true : 

•  Now  what  remains  for  me  to  do  ?' 

With  his  right  hand,  while  answering, 

The  hero  touched  his  friend : 
*  Go  back,'  he  said,  'and  on  the  king 

With  watchful  care  attend. 
Thus  far,  Sumantra,  thou  wast  guide ; 
Now  to  Ayodhya  turn,'  he  cried  : 

•  Hence  seek  we  leaving  steeds  and  car, 
On  foot  the  wood  that  stretches  far.' 

Sumantra,  when,  with  grieving  heart, 
He  heard  the  hero  bid  him  part, 
Thus  to  the  bravest  of  the  brave, 
Ikshvaku's  son,  his  answer  gave  : 
'  In  all  the  world  men  tell  of  naught, 
To  match  thy  deed,  by  heroes  wrought— 
Thus  with  thy  brother  and  thy  wife 
Thrall-like  to  lead  a  forest  life. 
No  meet  reward  of  fruit  repays 
Thy  holy  lore,  thy  saintlike  days, 
Thy  tender  soul,  thy  love  of  truth, 
If  woe  like  this  afflicts  thy  youth. 
Thou,  roaming  under  forest  boughs 


1  Daughter  of   Jahnu,  a  name  of    the 
Ganges.    See  p.  55. 


With  thy  dear  brother  and  thy  spouse, 
Shalt  richer  meed  of  glory  gain 
Than  if  three  worlds  confessed  thy  reign, 
Sad  is  our  fate,  0  Rama  :  we, 
Abandoned  and  repelled  by  thee, 
Must  serve  as  thralls  Kaikeyi's  will, 
Imperious,  wicked,  born  to  ill.' 

Thus  cried  the  faithful  charioteer, 
As  Raghu's  son,  in  rede  his  peer, 
Was  fast  departing  on  his  road,— 
And  long  his  tears  of  anguish  flowed. 
But  Rama,  when  those  tears  were  dried, 
His  lips  with  water  purified, 
And  in  soft  accents,  sweet  and  clear, 
Again  addressed  the  charioteer  : 
4 1  find  no  heart,  my  friend,  like  thine, 
So  faithful  to  Ikshvaku's  line. 
Still  first  in  view  this  object  keep, 
That  ne'er  for  me  my  sire  may  weep. 
For  he,  the  world's  far-ruling  king, 
Is  old,  and  wild  with  sorrow's  sting ; 
With  love's  great  burthen  worn  and  weak  : 
Deem  this  the  cause  that  thus  I  spea  k 
Whate'er  the  high-souled  king  decrees 
His  loved  Kaikeyi's  heart  to  please, 
Yea,  be  his  order  what  it  may, 
Without  demur  thou  must  obey, 
For  this  alone  great  moriarohs  reign, 
That  ne'er  a  wish  be  formed  in  vain. 
Then,  O  Sumantra,  well  provide 
That  by  no  check  the  king  be  tried  : 
Nor  let  his  heart  in  sorrow  pine  : 
This  care,  my  faithful  friend,  be  thine. 
The  honoured  king  my  father  greet, 
And  thus  for  me  my  words  repeat 
To  him  whose  senses  are  controlled, 
Un tired  till  now  by  grief,  and  old  : 
'  I,  Sita,  Lakshman  sorrow  not, 
O  Monarch,  for  our  altered  lot : 
The  same  to  us,  if  here  we  roam, 
Or  if  Ayodhya  be  our  home. 
The  fourteen  years  will  quickly  fly, 
The  happy  hour  will  soon  be  nigh 
When  thou,  my  lord,  again  shalt  see 
Lakshman,  the  Maithi'  dame,  and  me 
Thus  having  soothed,  O  charioteer, 
My  father  and  my  mother  dear, 
Let  all  the  queens  my  message  learn, 
But  to  Kaikeyi  chiefly  turn. 
With  loving  blessings  from  the  three, 
From  Lakshman,  Sita,  and  from  me, 
My  mother,  Queen  Kausalya,  greet 
With  reverence  to  her  sacred  feet. 
And  add  this  prayer  of  mine  :  '  O  King, 
Bend  quickly  forth  and  Bharat  bring, 
And  set  him  on  the  royal  throne 
Which  thy  decree  has  made  his  own. 
When  he  upon  the  throne  is  placed, 
When  thy  fond  arms  are  round  him  laced, 
Thine  aged  heart  will  cease  to  ache 
itter  pangs  for  lama's  sake.' 


Canto 


LIL 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


155 


And  say  to  Bharat :  *  See  thou  treat 
The  queens  with  all  observance  meet : 
What  care  the  king  receives,  the  same 
Show  thou  alike  to  every  dame. 
Obedience  to  thy  father's  will 
Who  chooses  thee  the  throne  to  fill, 
Will  earn  for  thee  a  store  of  bliss 
Both  in  the  world  to  come  and  this.* 

Thus  Rama  bade  Sumantra  go 
With  thoughtful  care  instructed  so. 
Sumantra  all  his  message  heard, 
And  spake  again,  by  passion  stirred  : 
'  O,  should  deep  feeling  mar  in  aught 
The  speech  by  fond  devotion  taught, 
Forgive  whatever  I  wildly  speak : 
My  love  is  strong,  my  tongue  is  weak, 
How  shall  I,  if  deprived  of  thee, 
Return  that  mournful  town  to  see  : 
Where  sick  at  heart  the  people  are 
Because  their  Rama  roams  afar. 
Woe  will  be  theirs  too  deep  to  brook 
When  on  the  empty  car  they  look, 
As  when  from  hosts,  whose  chiefs  are  slain, 
One  charioteer  comes  home  again. 
This  very  day,  I  ween,  is  food 
Forsworn  by  all  the  multitude, 
Thinking  that  thou,  with  hosts  to  aid, 
Art  dwelling  in  the  wild  wood's  shade. 
The  great  despair,  the  shriek  of  woe 
They  uttered  when  they  saw  thee  go, 
Will,  when  I  come  with  none  beside, 
A  hundred-fold  be  multiplied. 
How  to  Kausalya  can  I  say  : 
'  O  Queen,  I  took  thy  son  away, 
And  with  thy  brother  left  him  well  : 
Weep  not  for  him;  thy  woe  dispel? ' 
So  false  a  tale  I  cannot  frame, 
Yet  how  speak  truth  and  grieve  the  dame? 
How  shall  these  horses,  fleet  and  bold, 
Whom  not  a  hand  but  mine  can  hold, 
Bear  others,  wont  to  whirl  the  car 
Wherein  Ikshvaku's  children  are  ! 
Without  thee,  Prince,  I  cannot,  no, 
I  cannot  to  Ayodhya  go. 
Then  deign,  O  Kama,  to  relent, 
And  let  me  share  thy  banishment. 
But  if  no  prayers  can  move  thy  heart, 
If  thou  wilt  quit  me  and  depart, 
The  flames  shall  end  my  car  and  me, 
Deserted  thus  and  reft  of  thee. 
In  the  wild  wood  when  foes  are  near, 
When  dangers  check  thy  vows  austere, 
Borne  in  my  car  will  I  attend. 
All  danger  and  all  care  to  end. 
For  thy  dear  sake  I  love  the  skill 
That  guides  the  steed  and  curbs  his  will  : 
And  soon  a  forest  life  will  be 
As  pleasant,  for  my  love  of  thee. 
And  if  these  horses  near  thee  dwell, 
And  serve  thee  in  the  forest  well, 
They,  for  their  service,  will  not  miss 


The  due  reward  of  highest  bliss. 
Thine  orders,  as  with  thee  I  stray, 
Will  I  with  heart  and  head  obey, 
Prepared,  for  thee,  without  a  sigh, 
To  lose  Ayodhy&  or  the  sky. 
As  one  defiled  with  hideous  sin, 
I  never  more  can  pass  within 
Ayodhya,  city  of  our  king, 
Unless  beside  me  thee  I  bring. 
One  wish  is  mine,  I  ask  no  more, 
That,  when  thy  banishment  is  o'er 
I  in  my  car  may  bear  my  lord, 
Triumphant,  to  his  home  restored. 
The  fourteen  years,  if  spent  with  thee, 
Will  swift  as  light-winged  moments  flee; 
But  the  same  years,  without  thee  told, 
Were  magnified  a  hundred- fold. 
Do  not,  kind  lord,  thy  servant  leave. 
Who  to  his  master's  son  would  cleave, 
And  the  same  path  with  him  pursue, 
Devoted,  tender,  just  and  true.' 

Again,  again  Sumantra  made 
His  varied  plaint,  and  wept  and  prayed. 
Him  Kaghu's  son,  whose  tender  breast 
Felt  for  his  servants,  thus  addressed  : 
'  O  faithful  servant,  well  my  heart 
Knows  how  attached  and  true  thou  art. 
Hear  thou  the  words  I  speak,  and  know 
Why  to  the  town  I  bid  thee  go. 
Soon  as  Kaikeyi,  youngest  queen, 
Thy  coming  to  the  town  has  seen, 
No  doubt  will  then  her  mind  oppress 
That  Rama  roams  the  wilderness. 
And  so  the  darne,  her  heart  content 
With  proof  of  Rama's  banishment, 
Will  doubt  the  virtuous  king  no  more 
As  faithless  to  the  oath  he  swore. 
Chief  of  my  cares  is  this,  that  she, 
Youngest  amid  the  queens,  may  see 
Bharat  her  son  securely  reign 
O'er  rich  Ayodhya's  wide  domain. 
For  mine  and  for  the  monarch's  sake 
Do  thou  thy  journey  homeward  take, 
And,  as  I  bade,  repeat  each  word 
That  from  my  lips  thou  here  hast  heard.' 

Thus  spake  the  prince,  and  strove  to  cheer 
The  sad  heart  of  the  charioteer, 
And  then  to  royal  Guha  said 
These  words  most  wise  and  spirited  : 

Guha,  dear  friend,  it  is  not  meet 
That  people  throng  my  calm  retreat: 
For  I  must  live  a  strict  recluse, 
And  mould  my  life  by  hermits'  use, 
[  now  the  ancient  rule  accept 
By  good  ascetics  gladly  kept. 
[  go  :  bring  fig-tree  juice  that  I 
[n  matted  coils  my  hair  may  tie.' 

Quick  Guha  hastened  to  produce, 
For  the  king's  son,  that  sacred  juice, 
["hen  Rama  of  his  long  locks  made, 
And  Lakshman's  too,  the  hermit  braid. 


156 


TEE  RAM  AT  AN. 


Boole  II. 


And  the  two  royal  brothers  there 
With  coats  of  bark  and  matted  hair, 
Transformed  in  lovely  likeness  stood 
To  hermit  saints  who  love  the  wood. 
So  Kama,  with  his  brother  bold, 
A  pious  anchorite  enrolled, 
Obeyed  the  vow  which  hermits  take, 
And  to  his  friend,  King  Guha,  spake  : 
*  May  people,  treasure,  army  share, 
And  fenced  forts,  thy  constant  care  : 
Attend  to  all :  supremely  hard 
The^sovereign's  task,  to  watch  and  guard.' 

Ikshvaku's  son,  the  good  and  brave, 
This  last  farewell  to  Guha  gave, 
And  then,  with  Lakshman  and  his  bride, 
Determined,  on  his  way  he  hied. 
Soon  as  he  viewed,  upon  the  shore, 
The  bark  prepared  to  waft  them  o'er 
Impetuous  Ganga's  rolling  tide, 
To  Lakshman  thus  the  chieftain  cried  : 
'  Brother,  embark  ;  thy  hand  extend, 
Thy  gentle  aid  to  Sita  lend  : 
With  care  her  trembling  footsteps  guide, 
And  place  the  lady  by  thy  side.' 
When  Lakshman  heard,  prepared  to  aid. 
His  brother's  words  he  swift  obeyed. 
Within  the  bark  he  placed  the  dame, 
Then  to  her  side  the  hero  came. 
Next  Lakshman's  elder  brother,  lord 
Of  brightest  glory,  when  on  board, 
Breathing  a  prayer  for  blessings,  meet 
For  priest  or  warrior  to  repeat. 
Then  he  and  car-borne  Lakshman  bent, 
Well-pleased,  their  heads,  most  reverent, 
Their  hands,  with  Sita,  having  dipped, 
As  Scripture  bids,  and  water  sipped, 
Farewell  to  wise  Sumantra  said, 
And  Guha,  with  the  train  he  led. 
So  Rama  took,  on  board,  his  stand, 
And  urged  the  vessel  from  the  land. 
Then  swift  by  vigorous  arms  impelled 
Her  onward  course  the  vessel  held, 
And  guided  by  the  helmsman  through 
The  dashing  waves  of  Ganga  flew. 
Half  way  across  the  flood  they  came, 
When  Sita,  free  from  spot  and  blame, 
Her  reverent  hands  together  pressed, 
The  Goddess  of  the  stream  addressed  : 
•  May  the  great  chieftain  here  who  springs 
From  Dasaratha,  best  of  kings, 
Protected  by  thy  care,  fulfil 
His  prudent  father's  royal  will. 
When  in  the  forest  he  has  spent 
His  fourteen  years  of  banishment, 
With  his  dear  brother  and  with  me 
His  home  again  my  lord  shall  see. 
Returning  on  that  blissful  day, 
I  will  to  thee  mine  offerings  pay, 
Dear  Queen,  whose  waters  gently  flow, 
Who  canst  all  blessed  gifts  bestow. 


or,  three-pathed  Queen,  though  wander- 
ing here, 

hy  waves  descend  from  Brahma's  sphere 
»pouse  of  the  God  o'er  floods  supreme, 
Chough  rolling  here  thy  glorious  stream. 
\>  thee,  fair  Queen,  my  head  shall  bend, 
"o  thee  shall  hymns  of  praise  ascend, 
When  my  brave  lord  shall  turn  again, 
And,  joyful,  o'er  his  kingdom  reign, 
["o  win  thy  grace,  O  Queen  divine, 
A  hundred  thousand  fairest  kine, 
And  precious  robes  and  finest  meal 
Among  the  Brahmans  will  I  deal. 
A  hundred  jars  of  wine  shall  flow, 
kVhen  to  my  home,  O  Queen,  I  go  ; 
With  these,  and  flesh,  and  corn,  and  rice, 
Will  I,  delighted,  sacrifice. 
Sach  hallowed  spot,  each  holy  shrine 
That  stands  on  these  fair  shores  of  thine, 
Sach  fane  and  altar  on  thy  banks 
Shall  share  my  offerings  and  thanks. 
Nith  me  and  Lakshman,  free  from  harm, 
May  he  the  blameless,  strong  of  arm, 
Eleseek  Ayodhya  from  the  wild, 
O  blameless  Lady  undefiled !' 

As,  praying  for  her  husband's  sake, 
The  faultless  dame  to  Ganga  spake, 
To  the  right  bank  the  vessel  flew 
With  her  whose  heart  was  right  and  true. 
Soon  as  the  bark  had  crossed  the  wave, 
The  lion  leader  of  the  brave, 
Leaving  the  vessel  on  the  strand, 
With  wife  and  brother  leapt  to  land. 
Then  Rama  thus  the  prince  addressed 
Who  filled  with  joy  Sumitra's  breast: 
'  Be  thine  alike  to  guard  and  aid 
In  pe&pled  spot,  in  lonely  shade. 
Do  thou,  Sumitra's  son,  precede  : 
Let  Sita  walk  where  thou  shalt  lead. 
Behind  you  both  my  place  shall  be, 
To  guard  the  Maithil  dame  and  thee. 
For  she,  to  woe  a  stranger  yet, 
No  toil  or  grief  till  now  has  met ; 
The  fair  Videhan  will  assay 
The  pains  of  forest  life  to-day. 
To-day  her  tender  feet  must  tread 
Rough  rocky  wilds  around  her  spread: 
No  tilth  is  there,  no  gardens  grow, 
No  crowding  people  come  and  go.' 

The  hero  ceased  :  and  Lakshman  led 
Obedient  to  the  words  he  said  : 
And  Sita  followed  him,  and  then 
Came  Raghu's  pride,  the  lord  of  men. 
With  Sita  walking  o'er  the  sand 
They  sought  the  forest,  bow  in  hand, 
But  still  their  lingering  glances  threw 
Where  yet  Sumantra  stood  in  view. 
Sumantra,  when  his  watchful  eye 
The  royal  youths  no  more  could  spy, 
Turned  from  the  spot  whereon  he  stood 
Homeward  with  Guha  from  the  wood; 


Canto  LI II. 


THE  RlMAYAN. 


157 


Still  on  the  brothers  forced  their  way 
Where  sweet  birds  sang  on  every  spray, 
Though  scarce  the  eye  a  path  could  find 
Mid  flowering  trees  where  creepers  twined. 
Far  on  the  princely  brothers  pressed, 
And  stayed  their  feet  at  length  to  rest 
Beneath  a  fig-tree's  mighty  shade 
With  countless  pendent  shoots  displayed. 
Reclining  there  a  while  at  ease, 
They  saw,  not  far,  beneath  fair  trees 
A  lake  with  many  a  lotus  bright 
That  bore  the  name  of  Lovely  Sight. 
Rama  his  wife's  attention  drew, 
And  Lakshman's,  to  the  charming  view  : 
'  Look,  brother,  look  how  fair  the  flood 
Glows  with  the  lotus,  llower  and  bud  1 ' 
They  drank  the  water  fresh  and  clear, 
And  with  their  shafts  they  slew  a  deer. 
A  fire  of  boughs  they  made  in  haste, 
And  in  the  flame  the  meat  they  placed. 
So  Kaghu's  sons  with  Sita  shared 
The  hunter's  meal  their  hauds  prepared, 
Then  counselled  that  the  spreading  tree 
Their  shelter  and  their  home  should  be. 


CANTO  LIII. 


RAMA'S  LAMENT. 

When  evening  rites  were  duly  paid, 
Keclined  beneath  the  leafy  shade, 
To  Lakshman  thus  spake  Rama,  best 
Of  those  who' glad  a  people's  breast : 
'  Now  the  first  night  has  closed  the  day 
That  saw  us  from  our  country  stray, 
And  parted  from  the  charioteer  ; 
Yet  grieve  not  thou,  my  brother  dear. 
Henceforth  by  night,  when  others  sleep, 
Must  we  our  careful  vigil  keep, 
Watching  for  Sita's  welfare  thus, 
For  her  dear  life  depends  on  us. 
Bring  me  the  leaves  that  lie  around, 
And  spread  them  here  upon  the  ground, 
That  we  on  lowly  beds  may  lie, 
And  let  in  talk  the  night  go  by.' 

So  on  the  ground  with  leaves  o'erspread, 
He  who  should  press  a  royal  bed, 
Rama  with  Lakshman  thus  conversed, 
And  many  a  pleasant  tale  rehearsed  : 
'This  night  the  king,'  he  cried,  *  alas  ! 
In  broken  sleep  will  sadly  pass. 
Kaikeyi  now  content  should  be, 
For  mistress  of  her  wish  is  she. 
So  fiercely  she  for  empire  yearns, 
That  when  her  Bharat  home  returns, 
She  in  her  greed,  may  even  bring 
Destruction  on  our  lord  the  king. 
What  can  he  do,  in  feeble  eld, 
Reft  of  all  aid  and  me  expelled, 


His  soul  enslaved  by  love,  a  thrall 

Obedient  to  Kaikeyi 's  call  ? 

As  thus  I  muse  upon  his  woe 

And  all  his  wisdom's  overthrow, 

Love  is,  methinks,  of  greater  might 

To  stir  the  heart  than  gain  and  right. 

For  who,  in  wisdom's  lore  untaught. 

Could  by  a  beauty's  prayer  be  bought 

To  quit  his  own  obedient  son, 

Who  loves  him,  as  my  sire  has  done  ? 

Bharat,  Kaikeyi's  child,  alone 

Will,  with  his  wife,  enjoy  the  throne, 

And  blissfully  his  rule  maintain 

O'er  happy  Kosala's  domain. 

To  Bharat's  single  lot  will  fall 

The  kingdom  and  the  power  and  all, 

When  fails  the  king  from  length  of  days, 

And  Rarna  in  the  forest  strays. 

Whoe'er,  neglecting  right  and  gain, 

Lets  conquering  love  his  soul  enchain, 

To  him,  like  Dasaratha's  lot, 

Comes  woe  with  feet  that  tarry  not. 

Methinks  at  last  the  royal  dame, 

Dear  Lakshmun,  has  secured  her  aim, 

To  see  at  once  her  husband  dead, 

Her  son  enthroned,  and  Rama  fled. 

Ah  me  1    I  fear,  lest  borne  away 

By  frenzy  of  success,  she  slay 

Kausalya,  through  her  wicked  hate 

Of  me,  bereft,  disconsolate  ; 

Or  her  who  aye  for  me  has  striven 

Sumitra,  to  devotion  given. 

Hence,  Lakshman,  to  Ayodhya  speed, 

Returning  in  the  hour  of  need. 

With  Sita  I  my  steps  will  bend 

Where  Dandak's  mighty  woods  extend. 

No  guardian  has  Kausalya  now  : 

O,  be  her  friend  and  guardian  thou. 

Strong  hate  may  vile  Kaikeyi  lead 

To  many  a  base  unrighteous  deed, 

Treading  my  mother  'neath  her  feet 

When  Bharat  holds  the  royal  seat. 

Sure  in  some  antenatal  time 

Were  children,  by  Kausalya's  crime, 

Torn  from  their  mothers1  arms  away, 

And  hence  she  mourns  this  evil  day. 

She  for  her  child  no  toil  would  spare 

Tending  me  long  with  pain  and  care  ; 

Now  in  the  hour  of  fruitage  she 

Has  lost  that  son,  ah,  woe  is  me. 

O  Lakshman,  may  no  matron  e'er 

A  son  so  doomed  to  sorrow  bear 

As  I,  my  mother's  heart  who  rend 

With  anguish  that  can  never  end. 

The  Sarika,1  methinks,  possessed 

More  love  than  glows  in  Rama's  breast, 

Who,  as  the  tale  is  told  to  us, 

Addressed  the  stricken  parrot  thus  : 


1  The   Maind  or  Gracula  religiosa,  a 
favourite  cage-bird,  easily  taught  to  talk 


158 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  11. 


'  Parrot,  the  capturer's  talons  tear, 
While  yet  alone  thou  flutterest  there, 
Before  his  mouth  has  closed  on  me: ' 
So  cried  the  bird,  herself  to  free. 
Reft  of  her  son,  in  childless  woe, 
My  mother's  tears  for  ever  flow: 
Ill-fated,  doomed  with  grief  to  strive, 
"What  aid  can  she  from  me  derive? 
Pressed  down  by  care,  she  cannot  rise 
From  sorrow's  flood  wherein  she  lies. 
In  righteous  wrath  my  single  arm 
Could,  with  my  bow,  protect  from  harm 
Ayodhya's  town  and  all  the  earth  : 
But  what  is  hero  prowess  worth  ? 
Lest  breaking  duty's  law  I  sin, 
And  lose  the  heaven  I  strive  to  win, 
The  forest  life  to-day  I  choose, 
And  kingly  state  and  power  refuse.' 

Thus  mourning  in  that  lonely  spot 
The  troubled  chief  bewailed  his  lot, 
And  tilled  with  tears,  his  eyes  ran  o'er  ; 
Then  silent  sat.  and  spake  no  more. 
To  him,  when  ceased  his  loud  lament, 
Like  fire  whose  brilliant  might  is  spent, 
Or  the  great  sea  when  sleeps  the  wave, 
Thus  Lakshman  consolation  gave: 
'Chief  of  the  brave  who  bear  the  bow, 
E'en  now  Ayodhya,  sunk  in  woe, 
By  thy  departure  reft  of  light 
Is  gloomy  as  the  moonless  night. 
Unfit  it  seems  that  thou,  O  chief, 
Shouldst  so  afflict  thy  soul  with  grief, 
So  with  thou  Site's  heart  consign 
To  deep  despair  as  well  as  mine. 
Not  I,  O  Kaghu's  son,  nor  she 
Could  live  one  hour  deprived  of  thee  : 
"We  were,  without  thine  arm  to  save, 
Like  fish  deserted  by  the  wave. 
Although  my  mother  dear  to  meet, 
^atrughna,  and  the  king,  were  sweet, 
On  them,  or  heaven,  to  feed  mine  eye 
Were  nothing,  if  thou  wert  not  by.' 

Sitting  at  ease,  their  glances  fell 
Upon  the  beds,  constructed  well, 
And  there  the  sons  of  virtue  laid 
Their  limps  beneath  the  fig-tree's  shade. 

CANTO  LIV. 


BHARADVAJA'S  HERMITAGE. 

So  there  that  night  the  heroes  spent 
Under  the  boughs  that  o'er  them  bent, 
And  when  the  sun  his  glory  spread, 
Upstarting,  from  the  place  they  sped. 
On  to  that  spot  they  made  their  way, 
Through  the  dense  wood  that  round  them 

lay, 
Where  Yamuna's1  swift  waters  glide 


1  The  Jumna. 


To  blend  with  Ganga's  holy  tide. 
Charmed  with  the  prospect  ever  new 
The  glorious  heroes  wandered  through 
Full  many  a  spot  of  pleasant  ground, 
Rejoicing  as  they  gazed  around. 
With  eager  eye  and  heart  at  ease, 
On  countless  sorts  of  flowery  trees. 
And  now  the  day  was  half-way  sped 
When  thus  to  Lakshman  Rama  said  : 
*  There,  there,  dear  brother,  turn  thine  eyes ; 
See  near  Prayag1  that  smoke  arise: 
The  banner  of  our  Lord  of  Flames 
The  dwelling  of  some  saint  proclaims. 
Near  to  the  place  our  steps  we  bend 
Where  Yamuna  and  Ganga  blend. 
I  hear  and  mark  the  deafening  roar 
When  chafing  floods  together  pour. 
See,  near  us  on  the  ground  are  left 
Dry  logs,  by  labouring  woodmen  cleft, 
And  the  tall  trees,  that  blossom  near 
Saint  Bharadvaja's  home,  appear.' 

The  bow-armed  princes  onward  pass  ed, 
And  as  the  sun  was  sinking  fast 
They  reached  the  hermit's  dwelling,  set 
Near  where  the  rushing  waters  met. 
The  presence  of  the  warrior  scared 
The  deer  and  birds  as  on  he  fared, 
And  struck  them  with  unwonted  awe : 
Then  Bharadvaja's  cot  they  saw. 
The  high-souled  hermit  soon  they  found 
Girt  by  his  dear  disciples  round  : 
Calm  saint,  whose  vows  had  well  been 

wrought, 

Whose  fervent  rites  keen  sight  had  bought. 
Duly  had  flames  of  worship  blazed 
When  Rama  on  the  hermit  gazed  : 
His  suppliant  hands  the  hero  raised, 
Drew  nearer  to  the  holy  man 
With  his  companions,  and  began, 
Declaring  both  his  name  and  race 
And  why  they  sought  that  distant  place  ; 
•  Saint,  Dasaratha's  children  we, 
Rama  and  Lakshman,  come  to  thee. 
This  my  good  wife  from  Janak  springs, 
The  best  of  fair  Videha's  kings  ; 
Through  lonely  wilds,  a  faultless  dame, 
To  this  pure  grove  with  me  she  came. 
My  younger  brother  follows  still 
Me  banished  by  my  father's  will: 
Sumitra's  son,  bound  by  a  vow, — 
He  roams  the  wood  beside  me  now. 
Sent  by  my  father  forth  to  rove, 
We  seek,  O  .Saint,  some  holy  grove, 
Where  lives  of  hermits  we  may  lead, 
And  upon  fruits  and  berries  feed.' 

When  Bharadvaja,  prudent-souled, 
Had  heard  the  prince  his  tale  unfold, 
Water  he  bade  them  bring,  a  bull, 
And  honour-gifts  in  dishes  full, 

1  The  Hindu  name  of  Allahabad. 


Canto  LV. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


150 


And  drink  and  food  of  varied  taste, 
Berries  arid  roots,  before  him  placed, 
And  then  the  great  ascetic  showed 
A  cottage'for  the  guests'  abode. 
The  saint  these  honours  gladly  paid 
To  Rama  who  had  thither  strayed, 
Then  compassed  sat  by  birds  and  deer 
And  many  a  hermit  resting  near. 
The  prince  received  the  service  kind, 
And  sat  him  down  rejoiced  in  mind. 
Then  Bharadvaja  silence  broke, 
And  thus  the  words  of  duty  spoke  : 
'  Kakutstha's  royal  son,  that  thou 
Hadst  sought  this  grove  I  knew  ere  now. 
Mine  ears  have  heard  thy  story,  sent 
Without  a  sin  to  banishment. 
Behold,  O  Prince,  this  ample  space 
Near  where  the  mingling  floods  embrace, 
Holy,  and  beautiful,  and  clear  : 
Dwell  with  us,  and  be  happy  hera' 

By  Bharadvaja  thus  addressed, 
Earn  a  whose  kind  and  tender  breast 
All  living  things  would  bless  and  save, 
In  gracious  words  his  answer  gave  : 

4  My  honoured  lord,  this  tranquil  spot, 
Fair  home  of  hermits,  suits  me  not : 
For  all  the  neighbouring  people  here 
Will  seek  us  when  they  know  me  near: 
With  eager  wish  to  look  on  me, 
And  the  Videhan  dame  to  see, 
A  crowd  of  rustics  will  intrude 
Upon  the  holy  solitude. 
Provide,  O  gracious  lord,  I  pray, 
Some  quiet  home  that  lies  away, 
Where  my  Videhan  spouse  may  dwell 
Tasting  the  bliss  deserved  so  well.' 

The  hermit  heard  the  prayer  he  made: 
A  while  in  earnest  thought  he  stayed, 
And  then  in  words  like  these  expressed 
His  answer  to  the  chief's  request : 
'Ten  leagues  away  there  stands  a  hill 
Where  thou  mayst  live,  if  such  thy  will : 
A  holy  mount,  exceeding  fair  ; 
Great  saints  have  made  their  dwelling 

there  : 

There  great  Langurs1  in  thousands  play, 
And  bears  amid  the  thickets  stray  ; 
Wide-known  by  Chitrakuta's  name, 
It  rivals  Gandhamadan's2  fame. 
Long  as  the  man  that  hill  who  seeks 
Gazes  upon  its  sacred  peaks, 
To  holy  things  his  soul  he  gives 
And  pure  from  thought  of  evil  lives. 
There,  while  a  hundred  autumns  fled, 
Has  many  a  saint  with  hoary  head 
Spent  his  pure  life,  and  won  the  prize, 
By  deep  devotion,  in  the  skies  : 


1  The  Langur  is  a  large  monkey. 

2  A  mountain  said  to  lie  to  the  east  of 
Meru, 


Best  home,  I  ween,  if  such  retreat, 
Far  from  the  ways  of  men.  be  sweet : 
Or  let  thy  years  of  exile  flee 
Here  in  this  hermitage  with  me.' 

Thus  Bharadvaja  spake,  and  trained 
In  lore  of  duty,  entertained 
The  princes  and  the  dame,  and  pressed 
His  friendly  gifts  on  every  guest. 

Thus  to  Prayag  the  hero  went, 
Thus  saw  the  saint  preeminent, 
And  varied  speeches  heard  and  said  : 
Then  holy  night  o'er  heaven  was  spread. 
And  Rama  took,  by  toil  oppressed, 
With   Sita  and  his  brother,  rest  ; 
And  so  the  night,  with  sweet  content, 
In  Bharadvaja's  grove  was  spent. 
But  when  the  dawn  dispelled  the  night, 
Kama  approached  the  anchorite, 
And  thus  addressed  the  holy  sire 
Whose  glory  shone  like  kindled  fire  : 
'  Well  have  we  spent,  O  truthful  Sage, 
The  night  within  thy  hermitage  : 
Now  let  my  lord  his  guests  permit 
For  their  new  home  his  grove  to  quit.' 

Then,  as  he  saw  the  morning  break, 
In  answer  Bharadvaja  spake  : 
'  Go  forth  to  Chitrakuta's  hill, 
Where  berries  grow,  and  sweets  distil : 
Full  well,  I  deem,  that  home  will  suit 
Thee,  Kama,  strong  and  resolute. 
Go  forth,  and  Chitrakuta  seekr 
Famed  mountain  of  the  Varied  Peak. 
In  the  wild  woods  that  gird  him  round 
All  creatures  of  the  chase  are  found : 
Thou  in  the  glades  shalt  see  appear 
Vast  herds  of  elephants  and  deer. 
With  Sita  there  shalt  thou  delight 
To  gaze  upon  the  woody  height ; 
There  with  expanding  heart  to  look 
On  river,  table-land,  and  brook, 
And  see  the  foaming  torrent  rave 
Impetuous  from  the  mountain  cave. 
Auspicious  hill !  where  all  day  long 
The  lapwing's  cry,  the  Ko'il's  song 

Make  all  who  listen  gay  : 
Where  all  is  fresh  and  fair  to  see, 
Where  elephants  and  deer  roam  free, 

There,  as  a  hermit,  stay.' 


CANTO  LV. 


THE  PASSAGE  OF  YAMUNA'. 

The  princely  tamers  of  their  foes 
Thus  passed  the  night  in  calm  repose, 
Then  to  the  hermit  having  bent 
With  reverence,  on  their  way  they  went. 
High  favour  Bharadvaja  showed, 
And  blessed  them  ready  for  the  road, 


160 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  IT. 


With  such  fond  looks  as  fathers  throw 
On  their  own  sons  before  they  go. 
Then  spake  the  saint  with  glory  bright 
To  Rama  peerless  in  his  might : 
*  First,  lords  of  men,  direct  your  feet 
Where  Yamuna  and  Ganga  meet ; 
Then  to  the  swift  Kalindi1  go, 
Whose  westward  waves  to  Ganga  flow. 
When  thou  shalt  see  her  lovely  shore 
Worn  by  their  feet  who  hasten  o'er, 
Then,  Raghu's  son,  a  raft  prepare, 
And  cross  the  Sun-born  river  there. 
Upon  her  farther  bank  a  tree, 
Near  to  the  landing  wilt  thou  see. 
The  blessed  source  of  varied  gifts, 
There  her  green  boughs  th at  Eig  tree  lifts: 
A  tree  where  countless  birds  abide, 
By  3yama's  name  known  far  and  wide. 
Sita.'revere  that  holy  shade : 
There  be  thy  prayers  for  blessing  prayed. 
Thence  for  a  league  your  way  pursue, 
And  a  dark  wood  shall  meet  your  view, 
Where  tall  bamboos  their  foliage  show, 
The  Gum-tree  and  the  Jujube  grow. 
To  Chitrakuta  have  I  oft 
Trodden  that  path  so  smooth  and  soft, 
Where  burning  woods  no  traveller  scare, 
But  all  is  pleasant,  green,  and  fair.' 
When  thus  the  guests  their  road  had 

learned, 

Back  to  his  cot  the  hermit  turned, 
And  Rama,  Lakshman,  Sita  paid 
Their  reverent  thanks'f  or  courteous  aid. 
Thus  Rama  spake  to  Lakshman,  when 
The  saint  had  left  the  lords  of  men  : 
'  Great  store  of  bliss  in  sooth  is  ours 
On  whom  his  love  the  hermit  showers.' 
As  each  to  other  wisely  talked, 
The  lion  lords  together  walked 
On  to  Kalindi's  woody  shore  ; 
And  gentle  Sita  went  before. 
They  reached  that  flood,  whose  waters  flee 
With  rapid  current  to  the  sea; 
Their  minds  a  while  to  thought  they  gave 
And  counselled  how  to  cross  the  wave. 
At  length,  with  logs  together  laid, 
A  mighty  raft  the  brothers  made. 
Then  dry  bamboos  across  were  tied, 
And  grass  was  spread  from  side  to  side. 
And  the  great  hero  Lakshman  brought 
Cane  and  Rose-Apple  boughs.and  wrought, 
Trimming  the  branches  smooth  and  neat, 
For  Sita's  use  a  pleasant  .seat. 
And  Kama  placed  thereon  his  dame 
Touched  with  a  momentary  shame, 
Resembling  in  her  glorious  mien 
All-thought-surpassing  Fortune's  Queen 
Then  Rama  hastened  to  dispose. 


1  Another  name  of  the  Jumna,  daughter 
of  the  Sun. 


Each  in  its  place,  the  skins  and  bows, 
And  by  the  fair  Videhan  laid 
The  coats,  the  ornaments,  and  spade. 
When  Sita  thus  was  set  on  board, 
And  all  their  gear  was  duly  stored, 
The  heroes,  each  with  vigorous  hand, 
Pushed  off  the  raft  and  left  the  land. 
When  half  its  wav  the  raft  had  made, 
Thus  Sita  to  Kalindi  prayed: 
*  Goddess,  whose  flood  I  traverse  now, 
Grant  that  my  lord  may  keep  his  vow. 
For  thee  shall  bleed  a  thousand  kine, 
A  hundred  jars  shall  pour  their  wine, 
When  Rama  sees  that  town  again 
Where  old  Ikshvaku's  children  reign.' 

Thus  to  Kalindi's  stream  she  sued 
And  prayed  in  suppliant  attitude. 
Then  to  the  river's  bank  the  dame, 
Fervent  in  supplication,  came. 
They  left  the  raft  that  brought  them  o'er, 
And  the  thick  wood  that  clothed  the  shore, 
And  to  the  Fig-tree  £yama  made 
Their  way,  so  cool  with  verdant  shade. 
Then  Sita  viewed  that  best  of  trees, 
And  reverent  spake  in  words  like  these: 
'  Hail, hail,  0  mighty  tree  !  Allow 
My  husband  to  complete  his  vow; 
Let  us  returning,  I  entreat, 
Kausalyft  and  Sumitra  meet.' 
Then  with  her  hands  together  placed 
Around  the  tree  she  duly  paced. 
When  Rama  saw  his  blameless  spouse 
A  suppliant  under  holy  boughs, 
The  gentle  darling  of  his  heart, 
He  thus  to  Lakshman  spake  apart : 
'  Brother,  by  thee  pur  way  be  led; 
Let  Sita  close  behind  thee  tread  : 
I,  best  of  men,  will  grasp  my  bow, 
And  hindmost  of  the  three  will  go. 
What  fruits  soe'er  her  fancy  take, 
Or  flowers  half  hidden  in  the  brake, 
For  Janak's  child  forget  not  thou 
To  gather  from  the  brake  or  bough.' 

Thus  on  they  fared.    The  tender  dame 
Asknd  Rjima,  as  they  walked,  the  name 
Of  every  shrub  that  blossoms  bore, 
Creeper,  and  tree  unseen  before  : 
And  Lakshman  fetched,  at  Sita's  prayer, 
Boughs  of  each  tree  with  clusters  fair. 
Then  Janak's  daughter  joyed  to  see 
The  sand-discoloured  river  flee, 
Where  the  glad  cry  of  many  :i  bird, 
The  saras  and  the  swan,  was  heard, 
A  league  the  brothers  travelled  through 
The  forest:  noble  game  they  slew  : 
Beneath  the  trees  their  meal  they  dressed 
And  sat  them  down  to  eat  and  rest. 
A  while  in  that  delightful  shade 
Where  elephants  unnumbered  strayed, 
Where  peacocks  screamed  and  monkeys 
played, 


Canto  LVJ. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


161 


They  wandered  with  delight. 
Then  by  the  river's  side  they  found 
A  pleasant  spot  of  level  ground, 
Where  all  was  smooth  and  fair  around, 

Their  lodging  for  the  night. 


CANTO  LVI. 
CHITRAKUTA. 


Then  Rama,  when  the  morning  rose, 
Called  Lakshman  gently  from  repose  : 
'  Awake,  the  plea'saut  voices  hear 
Of  forest  birds  that  warble  near. 
Scourge  of  thy  foes,  no  longer  stay ; 
The  hour  is  come  to  speed  away.' 

The  slumbering  prince  unclosed  his  eyes 
When  thus  his  brother  bade  him  rise, 
Compelling,  at  the  timely  cry, 
Fatigue,  and  sleep,  and  rest  to  fly. 
The  brothers  rose  and  Sita  too  ; 
Pure  water  from  the  stream  they  drew, 
Paid  morning  rites,  then  followed  still 
The  road  to  Chitrakuta's  hill. 
Then  Rama  as  he  took  the  road 
WithLakshman,whilethemorning,glowed, 
To  the  Videhan  lady  cried, 
Sita  the  fair,  the  lotus-eyed; 
'  Look  round  thee,  dear  ;  each  flowery  tree 
Touched  with  the  fire  of  morning  see : 
The  Kinsuk,  now  the  Frosts  are  tied, — 
How  glorious  with  his  wreaths  of  red! 
The  Bel-trees  see,  so  loved  of  men, 
Hanging  their  boughs  in  every  glen. 
O'erburthened  with  their  fruit  and  flowers: 
A  plenteous  store  of  food  is  ours. 
See,  Lakshman,  in  the  leafy  trees, 
Where'er  they  make  their  home, 
Down  hangs,  the  work  of  labouring  bees 

The  ponderous  honeycomb. 
In  the  fair  wood  before  us  spread 

The  startled  wild-cock  cries  : 
Hark,  where  the  flowers  are  soft  to  tread, 

The  peacock's  voice  replies. 
Where  elephants  are  roaming  free, 
And  sweet  birds'  songs  are  loud, 
The  glorious  Chitrakuta  see : 
His  peaks  are  in  the  cloud. 
On  fair  smooth  ground  he  stands  dis- 
played, 

Begirt  by  many  a  tree  : 
O  brother,  in  that  holy  shade 
H6vv  happy  shall  we  be  P 


*  We  have  often  looked  on  that  green 
hill :  it  is  the  holiest  spot  of  that  sect  of 
the  Hindu  faith  who  devote  them  selves  to 
this  incarnation  of  Vishnu.  The  whole 
neighbourhood  is  llama's  country.  Every 


Then  Rama,  Lakshman,  Sita,  each 

Spoke  raising  suppliant  hands  this  speech 

To  him,  in  woodland  dwelling  met, 

Valmiki,  ancient  anchoret : 

*O  Saint,  this  mountain  takes  the  mind, 

With  creepers,  trees  of  every  kind, 

With  fruit  and  roots  abounding  thus, 

A  pleasant  life  it  offers  us  : 

Here  for  a  while  we  fain  would  stay, 

And  pass  a  season  blithe  and  gay.' 

Then  the  great  saint,  in  duty  trained, 
With  honour  gladly  entertained  : 
He  gave  his  guests  a  welcome  fair, 
And  bade  them  sit  and  rest  them  there. 
Kama  of  mighty  arm  and  chest 
His  faithful  Lakshman  then  addressed  :  , 
'  Brother,  bring  hither 'from  the  wood 
Selected  timber  strong  and  good, 
And  build  therewith  a  little  cot ; 
My  heart  rejoices  in  the  spot 
That  lies  beneath  the  mountain's  side, 
Remote,  with  water  well  supplied.' 

Suinitra's  son  his  words  obeyed, 
Brought  many  a  tree,  and  deftly  made, 
With  branches  in  the  forest  cut, 
As  Rama  bade,  a  leafy  hut. 
Then  Rama,  when  the  cottage  stood 
Fair,  firmly  built,  and  walled  with  wood, 
To  Lakshman  spake,  whose  eager  mind 
To  do  his  brother's  will  inclined  : 
'  Now,  Lakshman  as  our  cot  is  made, 
Must  sacrifice  be  duly  paid 
By  us,  for  lengthened  life  who  hope, 
With  venison  of  the  antelope. 
Away,  O  bright-eyed  Lakshman,  speed: 
Struck  by  thy  bow  a  deer  must  bleed: 
As  Scripture  bids,  we  must  not  slight 
The  duty  that  commands  the  rite.' 

Lakshman,  the  chief  whose  arrows  laid 
His  foemen  low,  his  word  obeyed  ; 
And  Rama  thus  again  addressed 
The  swift  performer  of  his  nest : 
•  Prepare  the  venison  thou  hast  shot, 
To  sacrifice  for  this  our  cot. 
Haste*  brother  dear,  for  this  the  hour, 
And  this  the  day  of  certain  power.' 
Then  glorious  Lakshman  took  the  buck 
His  arrow  in  the  wood  had  struck  ; 
Bearing  his  mighty  load  he  came, 
And  laid  it  in  the  kindled  flame. 


headland  has  some  legend,  every  cavern 
is  connected  with  his  name;  some  of  the 
wild  fruits  are  still  called  Sitdphal,  being 
the  reputed  food  of  the  exile.  Thousands 
and  thousands  annually  visit  the  spot,  and 
round  the  hill  is  a  raised  foot-path,  on 
which  the  devotee,  with  naked  feet,  treads 
full  of  pious  awe.'  Calcutta  Jtteviery. 
Vol,  XXIII. 


142 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  II 


Soon  as  he  saw  the  meat  was  done, 

And  that  the  juices  ceased  to  run 

From  the  broiled  carcass,  Lakshraan  then 

Spoke  thus  to  Rama  best  of  men ; 

*  The  carcass  of  the  buck,  entire, 

Is  ready  dressed  upon  the  lire. 

Now  be  the  sacred  rites  begun 

To  please  the  God,  thou  godlike  one.* 

Rama  the  good,  in  ritual  trained, 
Pure  from  the  bath,   with  thoughts  re- 
strained, 

Hasted  those  verses  to  repeat 
Which  make  the  sacrifice  complete, 
The  hosts  celestial  came  in  view, 
And  Rama  to  the  cot  withdrew, 
While  a  sweet  sense  of  rapture  stole 
Through  the  unequalled  hero's  soul. 
He  paid  the  Visvedevas'1  due, 
And  Rudra's  right,  and  Vishnu's  too, 
Nor  wonted  blessings,  to  protect 
Their  new-built  home,  did  he  neglect. 
With  voice  repressed  he  breathed  the  prayer, 
Bathed  duly  in  the  river  fair, 
And  gave  good  offerings  that  remove 
The  stain  of  sin,  as  texts  approve. 
And  many  an  altar  there  he  made, 
And  shrines,  to  suit  the  holy  shade, 
All  decked  with  woodland  chap  lets  sweet, 
And  fruit  and  roots  and  roasted  meat, 
With  muttered  prayer,  as  texts  require, 
Water,  and  grass  and  wood  and  tire. 
So  Rama,  Lakshman,  Sita  paid 
Their  offerings  to  each  God  and  shade, 
And  entered  then  their  pleasant  cot 
That  bore  fair  signs  of  happy  lot. 
They  entered,  the  illustrious  three, 
The  well-set  cottage,  fair  to  see, 
Hoofed  with  the  leaves  of  many  a  tree, 

And  fenced  from  wind  and  rain  : 
So,  at  their  Father  Brahma's  call, 
The  Gods  of  heaven,  assembling  all, 
To  their  own  glorious  council  hall 

Advance  in  shining  train. 
So,  resting  on  that  lovely  hill, 
Near  the  fair  lily-covered  rill, 

The  happy  prince  forgot, 
Surrounded  by  the  birds  and  deer, 
The  woe,  the  longing,  and  the  fear 

That  gloom  the  exile's  lot. 

CANTO  LVII. 


SO  MANTRA'S  RETURN. 

When  Rama  reached  the  southern  bank, 
King  Guha's  heart  with  sorrow  sank  : 

1  Deities  of  a  particular  class  in  which 
five  or  ten  are  enumerated.  They  are 
worshipped  particularly  at  the  funeral 
obsequies  in  honour  of  deceased  progenitors, 


He  with  Sumantra  talked,  and  spent 
With  his  deep  sorrow,  homeward  went. 
Sumantra,  as  the  king  decreed, 
Yoked  to  the  car  each  noble  steed, 
And  to  Ayodhya's  city  sped 
With  his  sad  heart  disquieted. 
On  lake  and  brook  and  scented  grove 
His  glances  fell,  as  on  he  drove  : 
City  and  village  came  in  view 
As  o'er  the  road  his  coursers  flew. 
On  the  third  day  the  charioteer, 
When  now  the  hour  of  night  was  near, 
Came  to  Ayodhya's  gate,  and  found 
The  city  all  in  sorrow  drowned. 
To  him,  in  spirit  quite  cast  down, 
Forsaken  seemed  the  silent  town, 
And  by  the  rush  of  grief  oppressed 
He  pondered  in  his  mournful  breast : 
4  Is  all  Ayodhya  burnt  with  grief, 
Steed,  elephant,  and  man,  and  chief  ? 
Does  her  loved  Rama's  exile  so 
Afflict  her  with  the  fires  of  woe  ? ' 
Thus  as  he  mused,  his  steeds  flew  fast, 
And  swiftly  through  the  gate  he  passed. 
On  drove  the  charioteer,  and  then 
In  hundreds,  yea  in  thousands,  men 
Ran  to  the  car  from  every  side, 
And,  '  Rama,  where  is  Rama?'  cried. 
Sumantra  said:  'My  chariot  bore 
The  duteous  prince  to  Ganga's  shore  ; 
I  left  him  there  at  his  behest, 
And  homeward  to  Ayodhya  pressed.1 
Soon  as  the  anxious  people  knew 
That  he  was  o'er  the  flood,  they  drew 
Deep  sighs,  and  crying,  Rama"!  all 
Wailed,  and  big  tears  began  to  fall. 
He  heard  the  mournful  words  prolonged, 
As  here  and  there  the  people  thronged  : 
'Woe,  woe  for  us,  forlorn,  undone, 
No  more  to  look  on  Raghu's  son  ! 
His  like  again  we  ne'er  shall  see, 
Of  heart  so  true,  of  hand  so  free, 
In  gifts,  in  gatherings  for  debate. 
When  marriage  pomps  we  celebrate. 
What  should  we  do  ?  What  earthly  thing 
Can  rest,  or  hope,  or  pleasure  bring  ? ' 

Thus  the  sad  town,  which  Rama  kept 
As  a  kind  father,  wailed  and  wept. 
Each  mansion,  as  the  car  went  by, 
Sent  forth  a  loud  and  bitter  cry, 
As  to  the  window  every  dame, 
Mourning  for  banished  Rama,  came. 
As  his  sad  eyes  with  tears  o'erflowed, 
He  sped  along  the  royal  road 
To  Dasaratha's  high  abode. 
There  leaping  down  his  car  he  stayed  ; 
Within  the  gates  his  way  he  made  ; 
Through  seven  broad  courts  he  onward  hied 
Where  people  thronged  on  every  side. 
From  each  high  terrace,  wild  with  woe, 
The  royal  ladies  flocked  below  ; 


Canto  LVIIL 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


He  heard  them  talk  in  gentle  tone, 
As  each  for  Rama  made  her  moan  : 
'  What  will  the  charioteer  reply- 
To  Queen  Kausalya's  eager  cry  ? 
With  Rama  from  the  gates  he  went ; 
Homeward  alone,  his  steps  are  bent. 
Hard  is  a  life  with  woe  distressed, 
But  difficult  to  win  is  rest, 
If,  when  her  son  is  banished,  still 
She  lives  beneath  her  load  of  ill.' 

Such  was  the  speech  Sumantra  heard 
From  them  whom  grief  unfeigned  had 

stirred. 

As  fires  of  anguish  burnt  him  through, 
Swift  to  the  monarch's  hall  he  drew, 
Past  the  eighth  court :  there  met  his  sight, 
The  sovereign  in  his  palace-  bright, 
Still  weeping  for  his  son,  forlorn. 
Pale,  faint,  and  all  with  sorrow  worn. 
As  there  he  sat,  Sumantra  bent 
And  did  obeisance  reverent, 
And  to  the  king  repeated  o'er 
The  message  he  from  Rama  bore. 
The  monarch  heard,  and  well-nigh  brake 
His  heart,  but  yet  no  word  he  spake  : 
Fainting  to  earth  he  fell,  and  dumb, 
By  grief  for  Rama  overcome. 
Rang  through  the  hall  a  startling  cry, 
And  women's  arms  were  tossed  on  high, 
When,  with  his  senses  all  astray, 
Upon  the  ground  the  monarch  lay. 
Kausalyd,  with  Sumitra's  aid, 
Raised  from  the  ground  her  lord  dismayed  : 
'  Sire,  of  high  fate,'  she  cried,  O,  why 
Dost  thou  no  single  word  reply 
To  Rama's  messenger  who  brings 
News  of  his  painful  wanderings  ? 
The  great  injustice  done,  art  thou 
Shame-stricken  for  thy  conduct  no\y  ? 
13-ise  up,  and  do  thy  part  :  bestow 
Comfort  and  help  in  this  our  woe. 
Speak  freely,  King  ;  dismiss  thy  fear, 
For  Queen  Kaikeyi  stands  not  near, 
Afraid  of  whom  thpu  wouldst  not  seek 
Tidings  of  Rama  :  freely  speak.' 

When  the  sad  queen  had  ended  so, 
She  sank,  insatiate  in  her  woe, 
'And  prostrate  lay  upon  the  ground, 
While  her  faint  voice  by  sobs  was  drowned. 
When  all  the  ladies  in  despair 
Saw  Queen  Kausalya  wailing  there, 
And  the  poor  king  oppressed  with  pain, 
They  flocked  around  and  wept  again. 

CANTO  LVIII. 


RAMA'S  MESSAGE. 

The  king  a  while  had  senseless  lain, 
W&en  care  brought  memory  back  again. 


Then  straight  he  called,  the  news  to  hear 
Of  Rama,  for  the  charioteer. 
With  reverent  hand  to  hand  applied 
He  waited  by  the  old  man's  side, 
Whose  mind  with  anguish  was  distraught 
Like  a  great  elephant  newly  caught. 
The  king  with  bitter  pain  distressed 
The  faithful  charioteer  addressed, 
Who,  sad  of  mien,  with  flooded  eye, 
And  dust  upon  his  limbs,  stood  by : 
'  Where  will  be  Rama's  dwelling  now 
At  some  tree's  foot,  beneath  the  bough  ; 
Ah,  what  will  be  the  exile's  food. 
Bred  up  with  kind  solicitude  ? 
Can  he,  long  lapped  in  pleasant  rest, 
Unmeet  for  pain,  by  pain  oppressed, 
Son  of  earth  s  king,  his  sad  night  spend 
Earth-couched,  as  one  that  has  no  friend  f 
Behind  him,  when  abroad  he  sped, 
Cars,  elephant,  and  foot  were  led : 
Then  how  shall  Rama  dwell  afar 
In  the  wild  woods  where  no  men  are  ? 
How,  tell  me,  did  the  princes  there, 
With  Sita  good  and  soft  and  fair, 
Alighting  from  the  chariot,  tread 
The  forest  wilds  around  them  spread  ? 
A  happy  lot  is  thine,  I  ween, 
Whose  eyes  my  two  dear  sons  have  seen 
Seeking  on  foot  the  forest  shade, 
Like  the  bright  Twins  to  view  displayed, 
The  heavenly  Asvins,  when  they  seek 
The  woods  that  hang  'neath  Mandar's  peak, 
What  words,  Sumantra,  quickly  tell, 
From  Rama,  l,akshman.  Sita,  fell  ? 
How  in  the  wood  did  Rama  eat  ? 
What  was  his  bed,  and  what  his  seat  ? 
Full  answer  to  my  questions  give, 
For  1  on  thy  replies  shall  live, 
As  with  the  saints  Yay^ti  held 
ISweet  converse,  from  the  skies  expelled.' 

Urge4  by  the  lord  of  men  to  speak, 
Whose  sobbing  voice  came  faint  and  weak, 
Thus  he,  while  tears  his  utterance  broke, 
In  answer  to  the  monarch  spoke : 
'  Hear  then  the  words  that  I{,ama  saM, 
Resolved  in  duty's  path  to  tread. 
Joining  his  hands,  his  head  he  bent. 
And  gave  this  message,  reve.rent ; 
'  Sumantra,  to  my  father  go, 
Whose  lofty  mind  ail  people  know  ; 
Bow  down  before  him,  as  is  meet, 
And  in  my  stead  salute  his  feet. 
Then  to  the  queen  my  mother  bend, 
And  give  the  greeting  that  I  send  : 
Ne'er  may  her  steps  from  duty  err, 
And  may  it  still  be  well  with  her. 
And  add  this  word  :  '  O  Queen,  pursue, 
Thy  vows  with  faithful  heart  and  true  • 
And  ever  at  due  season  turn 
Where  holy  fires  of  worship  burn. 
And,  lady,  on  our  lord  bestpw 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


Such  honour  as  to  Gods  we  owe. 
Be  kind  to  every  queen  :  let  pride 
And  thought  of  self  be  cast  aside. 
In  the  king's  fond  opinion  raise 
Kaikeyi,  by  respect  and  praise. 
Let  the  young  Bharat  ever  be 
Loved,  honoured  as  the  king  by  thee  : 
Thy  king- ward  duty  ne'er  forget: 
High  over  all  are  monarchs  set.' 

And.  Bharat,  too,  for  me  address  : 
Pray  that  all  health  his  life  may  bless. 
Let  every  royal  lady  share, 
As  justice  bids,  his  love  and  care. 
Say  to  the  strong-armed  chief  who  brings 
Joy  to  Iksvaku's  line  of  kings  : 
*  As  ruling  prince  thy  care  be  shown 
Of  him,  our  sire,  who  holds  the  throne, 
Stricken  in  years  he  feels  their  weight ; 
But  leave  him  in  his  royal  state. 
As  regent  heir  content  thee  still, 
Submissive  to  thy  father's  will.' 
Rama  again  his  charge  renewed, 
As  the  hot  flood  his  cheek  bedewed  : 
'  Hold  as  thine  own  my  mother  dear 
Who  drops  for  me  the  longing  tear.' 
Then  Lakshman,  with  his  soul  on  fire, 
Spake  breathing  fast  these  words  of  ire : 
'  Sa)%  for  what  sin,  for  what  offence 
Was  royal  Rama  banished  thence  ? 
He  is  the  cause,  the  king  ;  poor  slave 
To  the  light  charge  Kaikeyi  gave. 
Let  right  or  wrong  the  motive  be, 
The  author  of  our  woe  is  he. 
Whether  the  exile  were  decreed 
Through  foolish  faith  or  guilty  greed, 
For  promises  or  empire,  still 
The  king  has  wrought  a  grievous  ill. 
Grant  that  the  Lord  of  all  saw  fit 
To  prompt  the  deed  and  sanction  it, 
In  Kama's  life  no  cause  I  see 
For  which  the  king  should  bid  him  flee. 
His  blinded  eyes  refused  to  scan 
The  guilt  and  folly  of  the  plan, 
And  from  the  weakness  of  the  king 
Here  and  hereafter  woe  shall  spring. 
!No  more  my  sire  :  the  ties  that  used 
To  bind  me  to  the  king  are  loosed. 
My  brother  Rama,  Raghu's  son, 
To  me  is  lord,  friend,  sire  in  one. 
The  love  of  men  how  can  he  win, 
Deserting,  by  the  cruel  sin, 
Their  joy,  whose  heart  is  swift  to  feel 
A  pleasure  in  the  people's  weal  ? 
Shall  he  whose  mandate  could  expel 
The  virtuous  Rama,  loved,  so  well, 
To  whom  his  subjects'  fond  hearts  cling— 
Shall  he  in  spite  of  them  be  king  ?' 

But  Janak's  child,  my  lord,  stood  by, 
And  oft  the  votaress  heaved  a  sigh. 
She  seemed  with  dull  and  wandering  sense, 
Beteath  a  spirit's  influence, 


The  noble  princess,  pained  with  woe 
Which  till  that  hour  she  ne'er  could  know, 
Tears  in  her  heavy  trouble  shed, 
But  not  a  word  to  me  she  said. 
She  raised  her  face  which  grief  had  dried, 
And  tenderly  her  husband  eyed, 
Gazed  on  him  as  he  turned  to  go 
While  tear  chased  tear  in  rapid  flow.' 

CANTO  LIX. 


DAgARATHA'S  LAMENT. 

As  thus  Sumantra,  best  of  peers, 
Told  his  sad  tale  with  many  tears, 
The  monarch  cried,  '  I  pray  thee,  tell 
At  length  again  what  there  befell.' 
Sumantra,  at  the  king's  behest, 
Striving  with  sobs  he  scarce  repressed, 
His  trembling  voice  at  last  controlled, 
And  thus  his  further  tidings  told  : 
'  Their  locks  in  votive  coils  they  wound, 
Their  coats  of  bark  upon  them  bound, 
To  Ganga's  farther  shore  they  went, 
Thence  to  Prayag  their  steps  were  bent. 
I  saw  that  Lakshman  walked  ahead 
To  guard  the  path  the  two  should  tread. 
So  far  I  saw,  no  more  could  learn, 
Forced  by  the  hero  to  return. 
Retracing  slow  my  homeward  course, 
Scarce  could  I  move  each  stubborn  horse: 
Shedding  hot  tears  of  grief  he  stood 
When  Rama  turned  him  to  the  wood.1 
As  the  two  princes  parted  thence 
I  raised  my  hands  in  reverence, 
Mounted  my  ready  car,  and  bore 
The  grief  that  stung  me  to  the  core. 
With  Guha  all  that  day  I  stayed, 
Still  by  the  earnest  hope  delayed 
That  Rama,  ere  the  time  should  end, 
Some  message  from  the  wood  might  send. 
Thy  realms,  great  Monarch,  mourn  the 

blow, 
And  sympathize  with  Rama's  woe. 


1  *  So  in  Homer  the  horses  of  Achilles 
lamented  with  many  bitter  tears  the  death 
of  Patroclus  slain  by  Hector  : 

8'  Aia/aSao,  fia^rig   airavt- 


KXatov,    £?raS?7     TT/owra 


'Ev  Kovl'gffi  Trecrovroc  vcf^  ' 


ILIAD.  XVII,  426. 
Ancient    poesy    frequently    associated 
nature  with  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  man,' 
GORBESIO. 


Canto  LX. 


THE  RAM  AT  AN. 


165 


Each  withering1  tree  hangs  low  his  head, 
And  shoot,  and  bud,  and  flower  are  dead. 
Dried  are  the  floods  that  wont  to  fill 
The  lake,  the  river,  and  the  rill. 
Drear  is  each  grove  and  garden  now, 
Dry  every  blossom  on  the  bough. 
Each  beast  is  still,  no  serpents  crawl: 
A  lethargy  of  woe  on  all. 
The  very  wood  is  silent :  crushed 
With  grief  for  Rama,  all  is  hushed. 
Fair  blossoms  from  the  water  born, 
Gay  garlands  that  the  earth  adorn, 
And  every  fruit  that  gleams  like  gold, 
Have  lost  the  scent  that  charmed  of  old, 
Empty  is  every  grove  I  see, 
Or  birds  sit  pensive  on  the  tree. 
Where'er  I  look,  its  beauty  o'er, 
The  pleasance  charms  not  as  before. 
I  drove  through  fair  Ayodhya's  street : 
None  flew  with  joy  the  car  to  meet. 
They  saw  that  Rama  was  not  there, 
And  turned  them  sighing  in  despair, 
The  people  in  the  royal  way 
Wept  tears  of  bitter  grief,  when  they 
Beheld  me  coming,  from  afar, 
No  Rama  with  me  in  the  car. 
From  palace  roof  and  turret  high 
Each  woman  bent  her  eager  eye  ; 
She  looked  for  Rama,  but  in  vain  ; 
Gazed  on  the  car  and  shrieked  for  pain. 
Their  long  clear  eyes  with  sorrow  drowned 
They,  when  this  common  grief  was  found, 
Looked  each  on  other,  friend  and  foe, 
I  &  sympathy  of  levelling  woe  : 
No  shade  of  difference  between 
Foe,  friend,  or  neutral,  there  was  seen, 
Without  a  joy,  her  bosom  rent 
With  grief  for  Rama's  banishment, 
Ayodhya  like  the  queen  appears 
Who  mourns  her  son  with  many  tears.' 
He  ended  :  and  the  king,  distressed, 
With  sobbing  voice  that  lord  addressed: 
'Ah  me,  by  false  Kaikeyi  led, 
Of  evil  race,  to  evil  bred, 
I  took  no  counsel  of  the  sage, 
Nor  sought  advice  from  skill  and  age. 
I  asked  no  lord  his  aid  to  lend, 
I  called  no  citizen  or  friend. 
Rash  was  my  deed,  bereft  of  sense, 
Slave  to  a  woman's  influence. 
Surely,  my  lord,  a  woe  so  great 
Falls  on  us  by  the  will  of  Fate  ; 
It  lays  the  house  of  Raghu  lo\v, 
For  Destiny  will  have  it  so. 
I  pray  tiiee,  if  I  e'er  have  done 
An  act  to  please  thee,  yea,  but  one, 
Fly,  fly,  and  Rama  homeward  lead  : 
My  life,  departing,  counsels  speed. 
Fly,  ere  the  power  to  bid  I  lack, 
Fly  to  the  wood  :  bring  Rama  back, 
I  cannot  live  for  even  one 


Short  hour  bereaved  of  my  son. 

But  ah,  the  prince,  whose  arms  are  strong, 

Has  journeyed  far :  the  way  is  long ; 

Me,  me  upon  the  chariot  place, 

And  let  me  look  on  Rama's  face. 

Ah  me,  my  son,  mine  eldest-born, 

Where  roams  he  in  the  wood  forlorn, 

The  wielder  of  the  mighty  bow, 

Whose  shoulders  like  the  lion's  show  ? 

O,  ere  the  light  of  life  be  dim, 

Take  me  to  Sita  and  to  him. 

O  Rama,  Lakshman,  and  O  thou 

Dear  Sita,  constant  to  thy  vow, 

Beloved  ones,  you  cannot  know 

That  I  am  dying  of  my  woe.' 

The  king  to  bitter  grief  a  prey, 
That  drove  each  wandering  sense  away, 
Sunk  in  affliction's  sea.  too  wide 
To  traverse,  in  his  anguish  cried  : 
*  Hard,  hard  to  pass,  my  Queen,  this  sea 
Of  sorrow  raging  over  me  : 
No  Rama  near  to  soothe  mine  eye, 
Plunged  in  its  lowest  deeps  I  lie. 
Sorrow  for  Rama  swells  the  tide, 
And  Sita's  absence  makes  it  wide: 
My  tears  its  foamy  flood  distain, 
Made  billowy  by  my  sighs  of  pain: 
My  cries  its  roar,  the  arms  I  throw 
About  me  are  the  tish  below. 
Kaikeyi  is  the  lire  that  feeds 
Beneath:  my  hair  the  tangled  weeds : 
Its  source  the  tears  for  Rama  shed  : 
The  hump-back's  words  its  monsters  dread : 
The  boon  I  gave  the  wretch  its  shore, 
Till  Rama's  banishment  be  o'er.1 

Ah  me,  that  I  should  long  to  set 
My  eager  eyes  to-day 

On  Raghu's  son,  and  he  be  yet 
With  Lakshman  far  away  1' 

Thus  he  of  lofty  glory  wailed, 
And  vsank  upon  the  bed. 

Beneath  the  woe  his  spirit  failed, 
And  all  his  senses  fled, 

CANTO  LX. 


KAIJgALYAf  CONSOLED. 

As  Queen  Kausalya,  trembling  much, 
As  blighted  by  a  goblin's  touch, 
Still  lying  prostrate,  half  awoke 
To  consciousness,  'twas  thus  she  spoke  : 
'  Bear  me  away,  Sumantra,  far, 
Where  Rama,  Sita,  Lakshman  are. 
Bereft  of  them  I  have  no  power 
To  linger  on  a  single  hour. 


1  The  lines  containing  this  heap  of  forced 
metaphors  are  marked  as  spurious  by 
Schlegel. 


163 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  II. 


Again,  I  pray,  thy  steps  retrace, 
And  me  in  Dandak  forest  place, 
For  after  them  1  needs  must  go, 
Or  sink  to  Yama's  realms  below.* 

His  utterance  choked  by  tears  that  rolled 
Down  from  their  fountains  uncontrolled, 
With  suppliant  hands  the  charioteer 
Thus  spake,  the  lady's  heart  to  cheer: 
*  Dismiss  thy  grief,  despair,  and  dread 
That  tills  thy  soul,  of  sorrow  bred, 
For  pain  and  anguish  thrown  aside, 
Will  Rama  in  the  wood  abide. 
And  Lakshman,  with  unfailing  care 
Will  guard  the*  feet  of  Rama  there, 
Earning,  with  governed  sense,  the  prize 
That  waits  on  duty  in  the  skies. 
And  Sita  in  the  wild  as  well 
As  in  her  own  dear  home  will  dwell ; 
To  Rama  all  her  heart  she  gives, 
-4nd  free  from  doubt  and  terror  lives. 
No  faintest  sign  of  care  or  woe 
The  features  of  the  lady  show : 
Methinks  Videha's  pride  was  made 
For  exile  in  the  forest  shade. 
E'en  as  of  old  she  used  to  rove 
Delighted  in  the  city's  grove, 
Thus,  even  thus  she  joys  to  tread 
The  woodlands  uninhabited. 
Like  a  young  child,  her  face  as  fair 
As  the  young  moon,  she  wanders  there. 
What  though  in  lonely  woods  she  stray 
Still  Rama  is  her  joy  and  stay  : 
AH  his  the  heart  no  sorrow  bends, 
Her  very  life  on  him  depends. 
For,  if  her  lord  she  might  not  see, 
Ayodhya  like  the  wood  would  be. 
She  bids  him,  as  she  roams,  declare 
The  names  of  towns  and  hamlets  there, 
Marks  various  trees  that  meet  her  eye, 
And  many  a  brook  that  hurries  by, 
And  Janak's  daughter  seems  to  roam 
One  lijttle  league  away  frOm  home    v 
When  Rama  or  his  brother  speaks 
And  gives  the  answer  that  she  seeks. 
This,  Lady,  I  remember  well; 
Nor  angry  words  have  I  to  tell: 
Reproaches  at  Kaikeyi  shot, 
Such,  Queen,  my  mind  remembers  not.' 
The  speech  when  Sita's  wrath  was  high, 
Sumantra  passed  in  silence  by, 
That  so  his  pleasant  words  might  cheer 
With  sweet  report  Kausalya's  ear. 
'  Her  moonlike  beauty  suffers  not 
Though  winds  be  rude  and  suns  be  hot : 
The  way,  the  danger,  and  the  toil 
Her  gentle  lustre  may  not  soil. 
Like  the  red  lily's  leafy  crown 
Or  as  the  fair  full  moon  looks  down? 
So  the  Videhan  lady's  face 
Still  shines  with  undiminished  grace, 
"What  if  the  borrowed  colours  throw 


O'er  her  fine  feet  no  rosy  glow, 

Still  with  their  natural  tints  they  spread 

A  lotus  glory  where  they  tread. 

In  sportive  grace  she  walks  the  ground 

And  sweet  her  chiming  anklets  sound. 

No  jewels  clasp  the  faultless  limb  : 

She  leaves  them  all  for  love  of  him. 

If  in  the  woods  her  gentle  eye 

A  lion  sees,  or  tiger  nigh, 

Or  elephant,  she  fears  no  ill 

For  Rama's  arm  supports  her  still. 

No  longer  be  their  fate  deplored, 

Nor  thine,  nor  that  of  KosaPs  lord, 

For  conduct  such  as  theirs  shall  buy 

Wide  glory  that  can  never  die. 

For  casting  grief  and  care  away, 

Delighting  in  the  forest,  they 

With  joyful  spirits,  blithe  and  gay, 

Set  forward  on  the  ancient  way 

Where  mighty  saints  have  led  : 
Their  highest  aim,  their  dearest  care 
To  keep  their  father's  honour  fair, 
Observing  still  the  oath  he  sware, 

They  roam,  on  wild  fruit  fed.' 
Thus  with  persuasive  art  he  tried 
To  turn  her  from  her  grief  aside, 

By  soothing  fancies  won. 
But  still  she  gave  her  sorrow  yent: 
'  Ah  Rama !,'  was  her  shrill  lament, 

'  J^y  love,  my  son,  my  son ! ' 

CANTO  LXI. 
KAU^ALYA'S  LAMENT, 

When,  best  of  all  who  give  delight, 
Her  Rama  wandered  far  from  sight, 
Kausalya  weeping,  sore  distressed. 
The  Idng  her  husband  thus  addressed: 
'  Thy  name,  O  Monarch,  far  and  wide 
Through  the  three  worlds  is  glprifjed  : 
Yet  Rama's  is  the  pitying  mind, 
His  speech  is  true,  his  heart  is  kind. 
How  \yill  thy  sops,  good  lord,  sustain. 
With  Sita  all  their  care  and  pain  ? 
How  in  the  wild  endure  distress, 
Nursed  in  the  lap  of  tenderness  ? 
How  will  the  dear  Videhan  bear 
The  heat  and  cold  when  wandering  there, 
Bred  in  the  bliss  of  princely  state, 
So  young  and  fair  and  delicate  ? 
The  largcreyed  lady,  wont  to  eat 
The  best  of  finely  seasoned  meat — 
How  will  she  now  her  life  sustain 
With  woodland  fare  of  self-sewn  grain  ? 
Will  she,  with  joys  encompassed  long, 
Who  loved  the  music  and  the  song, 
In  the  wild  wood  endure  to  hear 
The  ravening  lion's  voice  of  fear  ? 
Where  sleeps  my  strong- armed  hero,  where, 


Canto  LXIL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


167 


Like  Lord  Mahendra's  standard,  fair? 
Where  is,  by  Lakshman's  side,  his  bed, 
His  club-like  arm  beneath  his  head  ? 
When  shall  I  see  his  flower-like  eyes, 
And  face  that  with  the  lotus  vies, 
Feel  his  sweet  lily  breath,  and  view 
His  glorious  hair  and  lotus  hue  ? 
The  heart  within  my  breast,  I  feel, 
Is  adamant  or  hardest  steel, 
Or,  in  a  thousand  fragments  split, 
The  loss  of  him  had  shattered  it, 
When  those  I  love,  who  should  be  blest, 
Are  wandering  in  the  wood  distressed, 
Condemned  their  wretched  lives  to  lead 
In  exile,  by  thy  ruthless  deed. 
If,  when  the  fourteen  years  are  past, 
Kama  reseeks  his  home  at  last, 
I  think  not  Bharat  will  consent 
To  yield  the  wealth  and  government. 
At  funeral  feasts  some  mourners  deal 
To  kith  and  kin  the  solemn  meal, 
And  having  duly  fed  them  all 
Some  Brah mans  to  the  banquet  call. 
The  best  of  Bralimans,  good  and  wise, 
The  tardy  summoning  despise, 
And,  equal  to  the  Gods,  disdain 
Cups,  e'en  of  Amrit,  thus  to  drain, 
Nay  e'en  when  Brahmans  first  have  fed, 
They  loathe  the  meal  for  others  spread, 
And  from  the  leavings  turn  with  scorn, 
As  nulls  avoid  a  fractured  horn. 
So  Rama,  sovereign  lord  of  men, 
Will  spurn  the  sullied  kingship  then  : 
He.  born  the  eldest  and  the  best, 
His  younger's  leavings  will  detest, 
Turning  from  tasted  food  away, 
As  tigers  scorn  another's  prey. 
The  sacred  post  is  used  not  twice, 
Nor  elements,  in  sacrifice. 
But  once  the  sacred  grass  is  spread, 
But  once  with  oil  the  flame  is  fed  : 
So  Kama's  pride  will  ne'er  receive 
The  royal  power  which  others  leave, 
Like  wine  when  tasteless  dregs  are  left, 
Or  rites  of  Soma  juice  bereft. 
Be  sure  the  pride  of  Raghu's  race 
Will  never  stoop  to  such  disgrace  : 
The  lordly  lion  will  not  bear 
That  man  should  beard  him  in  his  lair. 
Were  all  the  worlds  against  him  ranged 
His  dauntless  soul  were  still  unchanged  : 
He,  dutiful,  in  duty  strong, 
Would  purge  the  impious  world  from  wrong, 
Could  net  the  hero,  brave  and  bold, 
The  archer,  with  his  shafts  of  gold, 
Burn  up  the  very  seas,  as  doom 
Will  in  the  end  all  life  consume  ? 
Of  lion's  might,  eyed  like  a  bull, 
A  prince  so  brave  and  beautiful, 
Thou  hast  with  wicked  hate  pursued. 
Like  sea-born  tribes  who  eat  their  brood, 
12 


If  thou,  O  Monarch,  hadst  but  known 
The  duty  all  the  Twice-born  own, . 
If  the  good  laws  had  touched  thy  mind, 
Which  sages  in  the  Scriptures  find, 
Tiiou  ne'er  hadst  driven  forth  to  pine 
This  brave,  this  duteous  son  of  thine, 
First  on  her  lord  the  wife  depends, 
Next  on  her  son  and  last  on  friends  : 
These  three  supports  in  life  has  she, 
And  not  a  fourth  for  her  may  be. 
Thy  heart,  0  King,  I  have  not  won  ; 
In  wild  woods  roams  my  banished  son  ; 
Far  are  my  friends  :  ah,  hapless  me, 
Quite  ruined  and  destroyed  by  thee.' 

CANTO  LXIL 
DA&ARATHA  CONSOLED. 

The  queen's  stern  speech  the  monarch  heard, 
As  rage  and  grief  her  bosom  stirred, 
And  by  his  anguish  sore  oppressed 
Reflected  in  his  secret  breast. 
Fainting  and  sad,  with  woe  distraught, 
He  wandered  in  a  maze  of  thought ; 
At  length  the  queller  of  the  foe 
Grew  conscious,  rallying  from  his  woe. 
When  consciousness  returned  anew 
Long  burning  sighs  the  monarch  drew. 
Again  immersed  in  thought  he  eyed 
Ivausalya  standing  by  his  side. 
Back  to  his  pondering  soul  was  brought 
The  direful  deed  his  hand  had  wrought, 
When,  guiltless  of  the  wrong  intent, 
His  arrow  at  a  sound  was  sent. 
Distracted  by  his  memory's  sting, 
And  mourning  for  his  son,  the  king 
To  two  consuming  griefs  a  prey, 
A  miserable  victim  lay. 
The  double  woe  devoured  him  fast, 
As  on  the  ground  his  eyes  he  cast, 
Joined  suppliant  hands,  her  heart  to  touch, 
And  spake  in  the  answer,  trembling  much  : 
'  Kausalya,  for  thy  grace  I  sue, 
Joining  these  hands  as  suppliants  do. 
Thou  e'en  to  foes  hast  ever  been 
A  gentle,  good,  and  loving  queen. 
Her  lord,  with  noble  virtues  graced, 
Her  lord,  by  lack  of  all  debased, 
Is  still  a  God  in  woman's  eyes, 
If  duty's  law  she  hold  and  prize. 
Thou,  who  the  right  hast  aye  pursued, 
Life's  changes  and  its  chances  viewed, 
Shouldst  never  launch,  though    sorrow- 
stirred, 
At  me  distressed,  one  bitter  word,' 

She  listened,  as  with  sorrow  faint 
He  murmured  forth  his  sad  complaint : 
Her  brimming  eyes  with  tears  ran  o'er, 
As  spouts  the  new-fallen  water  pour  ; 


168 


TEE  n  AM  AT  AN. 


Boole  II. 


His  suppliant  hands,  with  fear  dismayed 

She  gently  clasped  in  hers,  ana  laid, 

Like  a  fair  lotus,  on  her  head, 

And  faltering  in  her  trouble  said : 

'  Forgive  me  ;  at  thy  feet  I  lie, 

With  low  bent  head  to  thee  I  cry. 

By  thee  besought,  thy  guilty  dame 

Pardon  from  thee  can  scarcely  claim. 

She  merits  not  the  name  of  wife 

Who  cherishes  perpetual  strife 

With  her  own  husband  good  and  wise, 

Her  lord  both  here  and  in  the  skies. 

I  know  the  claims  of  duty  well, 

I  know  thy  lips  the  truth  must  tell. 

All  the  wild  words  I  rashly  spoke, 

Forth  from  my  heart,  through  anguish, 

broke  ; 

For  sorrow  bends  the  stoutest  soul. 
And  cancels  Scripture's  high  control. 
Yea,  sorrow's  might  all  else  overthrows 
The  strongest  and  the  worst  of  foes. 
'  Tis  thus  with  all :  we  keenly  feel, 
Yet  bear  the  blows  our  foemen  deal, 
But  when  a  slender  woe  assails 
The  manliest  spirit  bends  and  quails. 
The  fifth  long  night  has  now  begun 
Since  the  wild  woods  have  lodged  my  son: 
To  me  whose  joy  is  drowned  in  tears, 
Each  day  a  dreary  year  appears. 
While  all  my  thoughts  on  him  are  set 
Grief  at  my  heart  swells  wilder  yet : 
With  doubled  might  thus  Ocean  raves 
When  rushing  floods  increase  his  waves.' 

As  from  Kau&alya  reasoning  well 
The  gentle  words  of  wisdom  fell, 
The  sun  went  down  with  dying  flame, 
And  darkness  o'er  the  landscape  came. 
His  lady's  soothing  words  in  part 
Relieved  the  monarch's  aching  heart,, 
Who,  wearied  out  by  all  his  woes» 
Yielded  to  sleep  and  took  repose. 


CANTO  LXIIL 


THE  HERMIT'S  SON. 

But  soon  by  rankling  grief  oppressed 
The  king  awoke  from  troubled  rest, 
And  his  sad  heart  was  tried  again 
With  anxious  thought  where  all  was  pain. 
Kama  and  Lakshman's  mournful  fate 
On  Dasaratha,  good  and  great 
As  Indra,  pressed  with  crushing  weight, 
As  when  the  demon's  might  assails 
The  Sun-God,  and  his  glory  pales. 
Ere  yet  the  sixth  long  night  was  spent, 
Since  Rama  to  the  woods  was  sent, 
The  king  at  midnight  sadly  thought 
Of  the  old  crime  his  hand  had  wrought, 


And  thus  to  Queen  Kausalya  cried 
Who  still  for  Rama  moaned  and  sighed  : 
'If  thou  art  waking,  give,  I  pray, 
Attention  to  the  words  I  say. 
Whate'er  the  conduct  men  pursue, 
Be  good  or  ill  the  acts  they  do, 
Be  sure,  dear  Queen,  they  find  the  meed 
Of  wicked  or  of  virtuous  deed. 
A  heedless  child  we  call  the  man 
Whose  feeble  judgment  fails  to  scan 
The  weight  of  what  his  hands  may  do, 
Its  lightness,  fault,  and  merit  too. 
One  lays  the  Mango  garden  low, 
And  bids  the  gay  Palasas  grow  : 
Longing  for  fruit  their  bloom  he  sees, 
But   grieves  when  fruit  should  bend  the- 

trees. 

Cut  by  my  hand,  my  fruit-trees  fell, 
Palasa  trees  1  watered  well. 
My  hopes  this  foolish  heart  deceive, 
And  for  my  banished  son  I  grieve. 
Kausalya,  in  my  youthful  prime 
Armed  with  my  bow  1  wrought  the  crime, 
Proud  of  my  skill,  my  name  renowned, 
An  archer  prince  who  shoots  by  sound. 
The  deed  this  hand  unwitting  wrought 
This  misery  on  my  soul  has  brought, 
As  children  seize  the  deadly  cup 
And  blindly  drink  the  poison  up. 
As  the  unreasoning  man  may  be 
Charmed  with  the  gay  Palasa  tree,. 
I  unaware  have  reaped  the  fruit 
Of  joying  at  a  sound  to  shoot. 
As  regent  prince  I  shared  the  throne, 
Thou  wast  a  maid  to  me  unknown. 
The  early  Kain-time  duly  came, 
And  strengthened  love's  delicious  flame. 
The  sun  had  drained  the  earth  that  lay 
All  glowing  neath  the  summer  day, 
And  to  the  gloomy  clime  had  fled 
Where  dwell  the  spirits  of  the  dead.1 
The  fervent  heat  that  moment  ceased. 
The  darkening  clouds  each  hour  increased 
And  frogs  and  deer  and  peacocks  all 
Rejoiced  to  see  the  torrents  fall. 
Their  bright  wings  heavy  from  the  shower, 
The  birds,  new-bathed,  had    scarce  the 

power 

To  reach  the  branches  of  the  trees 
Whose  high   tops    swayed    beneath    the 

breeze. 

The  fallen  rain,  and  falling  still, 
Hung  like  a  sheet  on  every  hill, 
Till,  with  glad  deer,  each  flooded  steep 
Showed  glorious  as  the  mighty  deep. 
The  torrents  down  its  wooded  side 
Poured,  some  unstained,  while  others  dyed 


1  The  southern  region  is  the  abode  of 
Yama  the  Indian  Pluto,  and  of  departed 
spirits. 


Canto  LXI1I. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


169 


Gold,  ashy,  silver,  ochre,  bore 
The  tints  of  every  mountain  ore. 
In  that  sweet  time,  when  all  are  pleased, 
My  arrows  and  my  bow  I  seized  ; 
Keen  for  the  chase,  in  field  or  grove, 
Down  Sarju's  bank  my  car  I  drove. 
I  longed  with  all  my  lawless  will 
Some  elephant  by  night  to  kill, 
Some  buffalo  that  came  to  drink, 
Or  tiger,  at  the  river's  brink. 
When  all  around  was  dark  and  still, 
I  heard  a  pitcher  slowly  fill, 
And  thought,  obscured  in  deepest  shade, 
An  elephant  the  sound  had  made. 
I  drew  a  shaft  that  glittered  bright, 
Fell  as  a  serpent's  venomcd  bite; 
I  longed  to  lay  the  monster  dead, 
And  to  the  mark  my  arrow  sped. 
Then  in  the  calm  of  morning,  clear 
A  hermit's  wailing  smote  my  ear  : 
'  Ah  me,  ah  me,'  he  cried,  and  sank, 
Pierced  by  my  arrow,  on  the  bank. 
E'en  as  the  weapon  smote  his  side, 
I  heard  a  human  voice  that  cried  : 
'Why  lights  this  shaft  on  one  like  me, 
A  poor  and  harmless  devotee  ? 
I  came  by  night  to  fill  my  jar 
From  this  lone  stream  where  no  men  are. 
Ah,  who  this  deadly  shaft  has  shot  ? 
Whom  have  I  wronged,  and  knew  it  not? 
Why  should  a  boy  so  harmless  feel 
rl  he  vengeance  of  the  winged  steel  ? 
Or  who  should  slay  the  guiltless  son 
Of  hermit  sire  who  injures  none, 
Who  dwells  retired  in  woods,  and  there 
Supports  his  .life  on  woodland  fare  ? 
Ah  me,  ah  me,  why  am  1  slain, 
What  booty  will  the  murderer  gain? 
In  hermit  coils  I  bind  my  hair, 
Coats  made  of  skin  and  bark  I  wear. 
Ah,  who  the  cruel  deed  can  praise 
Whose  idle  toil  no  fruit  repays, 
As  impious  as  the  wretch's  crime 
Who  dares  his  master's  bed  to  climb  ? 
Nor  does  my  parting  spirit  grieve 
But  for  the  life  which  thus  I  leave : 
Alas,  my  mother  and  my  sire, — 
I  mourn  for  them  when  I  expire. 
Ah  me,  that  aged,  helpless  pair, 
Long  cherished  by  my  watchful  care, 
How  will  it  be  with  them  this  day 
When  to  the  Five  l   I  pass  away  ? 
Pierced  by  the  self -same  dart  we  die, 
Mine  aged  mother,  sire,  and  I. 
Whose  mighty  hand,  whose  lawless  mind 
Has  all  the  three  to  death  consigned  ?' 

When  I,  by  love  of  duty  stirred, 
That  touching  lamentation  heard, 


1  The  five  elements  of  which  the  body 
consists,  and  to  which  it  returns, 


Pierced  to  the  heart  by  sudden  woe, 

I  threw  to  earth  my  shafts  and  bow. 

My  heart  was  full  of  grief  and  dread 

As  swiftly  to  the  place  I  sped, 

Where,  by  my  arrow  wounded  sore, 

A  hermit  lay  on  Sarju's  shore. 

His  matted  hair  was  all  unbound, 

His  pitcher  empty  on  the  ground. 

And  by  the  fatal  arrow  pained, 

He  lay  with  dust  and  gore  distained. 

I  stood  confounded  and  amazed : 

His  dying  eyes  to  mine  he  raised, 

And  spoke  this  speech  in  accents  stern, 

As  though  his  light  my  soul  would  burn  : 

'  How  have  I  wronged  thee,  King,  that  I 

Struck  by  thy  mortal  arrow  die  ? 

The  wood  my  home,  this  jar  I  brought, 

And  water  for  my  parents  sought 

This  one  keen  shaft  that  strikes  me  through 

Slays  sire  and  aged  mother  too. 

Feeble  and  blind,  in  helpless  pain, 

They  wait  for  me  and  thirst  in  vain. 

They  with  parched  lips  their  pangs  must 

bear, 

And  hope  will  end  in  blank  despair. 
Ah  me,  there  seems  no  fruit  in  store 
For  holy  zeal  or  Scripture  lore, 
Or  else  ere  now  my  sire  would  know 
That  his  dear  son  is  lying  low. 
Yet,  if  my  mournful  fate  he  knew, 
What  could  his  arm  so  feeble  do  ? 
The  tree,  firm-rooted,  ne'er  may  be 
The  guardian  of  a  stricken  tree. 
Haste  to  my  father,  and  relate 
While  time  allows,  my  sudden  fate, 
Lest  he  consume  thee,  as  the  fire 
Burns  up  the  forest,  in  his  ire. 
This  little  path,  O  King,  pursue  : 
My  father's  cot  thou  soon  wilt  view. 
There  sue  for  pardon  to  the  sage. 
Lest  he  should  curse  thee  in  his  rage. 
First  from  the  wound  extract  the  dart 
That  kills  me  with  its  deadly  smart, 
E'en  as  the  flushed  impetuoiis  tide 
Eats  through  the  river's  yielding  side.1 

I  feared  to  draw  the  arrow  out, 
And  pondered  thus  in  painful  doubt ; 
4  Now  tortured  by  the  shaft  he  lies, 
But  if  I  draw  It 'forth  he  dies.' 
Helpless  I  stood,  faint,  sorely  grieved  : 
The  hermit's  son  my  thought  perceived ; 
As  one  o'ercome  by  direst  pain 
He  scarce  had  strength  to  speak  again, 
With  writhing  limb  and  struggling  breath, 
Nearer  and  ever  nearer  death  : 
4  My  senses  undisturbed  remain, 
And  fortitude  has  conquered  pain  : 
Now  from  one  fear  thy  soul  be  freed, 
Thy  hand  has  made  no  Brahman  bleed. 
Let  not  this  pang  thy  bosom  wring  : 
No  twice- born  youth  am  I,  0  King, 


170 


THE  RAMAYAM. 


Boole  11 


For  of  a  Vaisya  sire  I  came, 
Who  wedded  with  a  &ftdr&  dame.' 

These  words  the  boy  could  scarcely  say, 
As  tortured  by  the  shaft  he  lay, 
Twisting  his  helpless  body  round, 
Then  trembling  senseless  on  the  ground. 
Then  from  his  bleeding  side  I  drew 
The   rankling   shaft    that   pierced    him 

through. 

With  death's  last  fear  my  face  he  eyed, 
And,  rich  in  store  of  penance,  died."' 

CANTO  LXIV. 


DAgARATHA'S  DEATH. 

The  son  of  Raghu  to  his  queen 
Thus  far  described  the  unequalled  scene, 
And,  as  the  hermit's  death  he  rued, 
The  mournful  story  thus  renewed  : 
'The  deed  my  heedless  hand  had  wrought 
Perplexed  me  with  remorseful  thought, 
And  all  alone  I  pondered  still 
How  kindly  deed  might  salve  the  ill. 
The  pitcher  from  the  ground  I  took, 
And  filled  it  from  that  fairest  brook, 
Then,  by  the  path  the  hermit  showed, 
I  reached  his  sainted  sire's  abode. 
I  came,  I  saw  :  the  aged  pair, 
Feeble  and  blind,  were  sitting  there, 
Like  birds  with  clipped  wings,  side  by  side, 
With  none  their  helpless  steps  to  guide. 
Their  idle  hours  the  twain  beguiled 
With  talk  of  their  returning  child, 
And  still  the  cheering  hope  enjoyed, 
The  hope,  alas,  by  me  destroyed. 
Then  spoke  the  sage,  as  drawing  near 
The  sound  of  footsteps  reached  his  ear: 
*  Dear  son,  the  water  quickly  bring  ; 
Why  hast  thou  made  this  tarrying  ? 
Thy  mother  thirsts,  and  thou  hast  played, 
And  bathing  in  the  brook  delayed. 
She  weeps  because  thou  earnest  not ; 
Haste,  O  my  son,  within  the  cot. 
If  she  or  I  have  ever  done 
A  thing  to  pain  thee,  dearest  son, 
Dismiss  the  memory  from  thy  mind  : 
A  hermit  thou,  be  good  and  kind. 
On  thee  our  lives,  our  all,  depend  : 
Thou  art  thy  friendless  parents'  friend. 
The  eyeless  couple's  eye  art  thou  : 
Tli en  why  so  cold  and  silent  now  ? ' 

With  sobbing  voice  and  bosom  wrung 
I  scarce  could  move  my  faltering  tongue, 
And  with  my  spirit  tilled  with  dread 
I  looked  upon  the  sage,  and  said, 
While  mind,  and  sense,  and  nerve  I  strung 
To  fortify  my  trembling  tongue, 
And  let  the  aged  hermit  know 
Hia  son's  sad  fate,  my  fear  and  woe  ; 


1  High-minded^  Saint,  not  I  thy  child, 
A  warrior,  Dasaratha  styled. 
I  bear  a  grievous  sorrow's  weight 
Born  of  a  deed  which  good  men  hate. 
My  lord,  I  came  to  Sarju's  shore, 
And  in  my  hand  my  bow  I  bore 
For  elephant  or  beast  of  chase 
That  seeks  by  night  his  drinking  place. 
There  from  tiie  stream  a  sound  I  heard 
As  if  a  jar  the  water  stirred, 
An  elephant,  I  thought,  was  nigh  : 
I  aimed,  and  let  an  arrow  fly. 
Swift  to  the  place  I  made  my  way, 
And  there  a  wounded  hermit,  lay 
Gasping  for  breath  :  the  deadly  dart 
Stood  quivering  in  his  youthful  heart. 
I  hastened  near  with  pain  oppressed ; 
He  faltered  out  his  last  behest, 
And  quickly,  as  he  bade  me  do, 
From  his  pierced  side  the  shaft  I  drew. 
I  drew  the  arrow  from  the  rent, 
And  up  to  heaven  the  hermit  went. 
Lamenting,  as  from  earth  he  passed, 
His  aged  parents  to  the  last. 
Thus,  unaware,  the  deed  was  done: 
My  hand,  unwitting,  killed  thy  son. 
For  what  remains,  O,  let  me  win 
Thy  pardon  for  my  heedless  sin.' 

As  the  sad  tale  of  sin  I  told. 
The  hermit's  grief  was  uncontrolled  ; 
With  flooded  eyes,  and  son-row-  faint, 
Thus  spake  the  venerable  saint: 
I  stood  with  hand  to  hand  applied, 
And  listened  as  he  spoke  and  sighed  : 
'  If  thou,  0  King,  hadst  left  unsaid 
By  thine  own  tongue  this  tale  of  dread,     • 
Thy  head  for  hideous  guilt  accursed 
Had  in  a  thousand  pieces  burst. 
A  hermit's  blood  by  warrior  spilt, 
In  such  a  case,  with  purposed  guilt, 
Down  from  his  high  estate  would  bring 
Even  the  thunder's  mighty  King. 
And  he  a  dart  who  concious  sends 
Against  the  devotee  who  spends 
His  pure  life  by  the  law  of  Heaven — 
That  sinner's  head  will  split  in  seven. 
Thou  livest,  for  thy  heedless  hand 
Has  wrought  a  deed  thou  hast  not  planned, 
Else  thou  and  and  all  of  Raghu's  line 
Had  perished  by  this  act  of  thine. 
Now  guide  us.'  thus  the  hermit  said, 
'  Forth  to  the  spot  where  he  lies  dead. 
Guide  us,  this  day,  0  Monarch,  we 
For  the  last  time  our  son  would  see  : 
The  hermit  dress  of  skin  he  wore 
Kent  from  his  limbs  distained  with  gore  j 
His  senseless  body  lying  slain, 
His  soul  in  Yarna's  dark  domain.' 

Alone  the  mourning  pair  I  led, 
Their  souls  with  woe  disquieted, 
And  let  the  danie  and  hermit  lay 


anto 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Their  hands  upon  the  breathless  clay, 
The  fattier  touched  his  son,  and  pressed 
!he  body  to  his  aged  breast ; 
Then  falling  by  the  dead  boy's  side, 
He  lifted  up  his  voice,  and  cried: 

Hast  thoti  no  word,  my  child,  to  say  ? 
'No  greeting  for  thy  sire  to-day  ? 
Why  art  thou  angry,  darling  ?  why 
Wilt  thou  upon  the  cold  earth  lie  ? 
If  thou,  my  son.  art  wroth  with  me, 
Here,  duteous  child,  thy  mother  see. 
What!  no  embrace  for  me,  my  son  ? 
No  word  of  tender  love — not  one  ? 
Whose  gentle  voice,  so  soft  and  clear, 
Soothing  my  spirit,  shall  I  hear 
When  evening  comes,  with  accents  sweet 
Scripture  or  ancient  lore  repeat? 
Who,  having  fed  the  sacred  fire, 
And  duly  bathed,  as  texts  require, 
Will  cheer,  when  evening  rites  are  done, 
The  father  mourning  for  his  son? 
Who  will  the  daily  meal  provide 
For  the  poor  wretch  who  lacks  a  guide, 
Feeding  the  helpless  with  the  best 
Berries  and  roots,  like  some  dear  guest? 
How  can  these  hands  subsistence  find 
For  thy  poor  mother,  old  and  blind? 
The  wretched  votaress  how  sustain, 
Who  mourns  her  child  in  ceaseless  pain  ? 
Stay  yet  a  while,  niy  darling,  stay, 
Nor  Uy  to  Yama's  realm  to-day. 
To-morrow  I  thy  sire  and  she 
Who  bare  thee,  child,  will  go  with  thee.1 
Then  when  I  look  on  Yama,  I 
To  great  Vivasvat's  son  will  cry: 
'  Hear,  King  of  justice,  and  restore 
Our  child  to  feed  us,  I  implore. 
Lord  of  the  world,  of  mighty  fame, 
Faithful  and  just,  admit  my  claim, 
And  grant  this  single  boon  to  free 
My  soul  from  fear,  to  one  like  me.' 
Because,  my  son,  untouched  by  stain, 
By  sinful  ha-nds  thou  fallest  slain, 
Win,  through  thy  truth,  the  sphere  where 

those 

Who  die  by  hostile  darts  repose. 
Seek  the  blest  home  prepared  for  all 
The  valiant  who  in  battle  fall, 
Who  face  the  foe  and  scorn  to  yield, 
In  glory  dying  on  the  field. 
Rise  to  the  heaven  where  Dhundhumar 
And  Nahush,  mighty  heroes,  are, 
Where  Janamejay  arid  the  blest 
Dilipa,  Sagar,  Saivya,  rest: 

1  So  dying  York  cries  over  the  body  of 
Suffolk : 

*  Tarry,  dear  cousin  Suffolk  ! 
My  soul  shall  thine  keep  company  to  heaven 
Tarry,  sweet  soul,  for  mine,  then  fly  abreast.' 
King  Henry  F,  Act  IV.  6, 


Home  of  all  virtuous  spirits,  earned 
By  fervent  rites  and  Scripture  learned  : 
By  those  whose  sacred  tires  have  glowed, 
Whose  liberal  hands  have  fields  bestowed: 
By  givers  of  a  thousand  cows, 
By  lovers  of  one  faithful  spouse  : 
By  those  who  serve  their  masters  well, 
And  cast  away  this  earthly  shell. 
None  of  my  race  can  ever  know 
The  bitter  pain  of  lasting  woe. 
But  doomed  to  that  dire  fate  is  he 
Whose  guilty  hand  has  slaughtered  thee.' 

Thus  with  wild  tears  the  aged  saint 
Made  many  a  time  his  piteous  plaint, 
Then  with  his  wife  began  to  shed 
The  funeral  water  for  the  dead. 
But  in  a  shape  celestial  clad, 
Won  by  the  merits  of  the  lad, 
The  spirit  from  the  body  brake 
And  to  the  mourning  parents  spake : 
1  A  glorious  home  in  realms  above 
Rewards  my  care  and  filial  love. 
You,  honoured  parents,  soon  shall  be 
Partakers  of  that  home  with  me.' 

He  spake,  and  swiftly  mounting  high, 
With  Indra  near  him,  to  the  sky 
On  a  bright  car,  with  flame  that  glowed, 
Sublime  the  duteous  hermit  rode. 

The  father,  with  his  consort's  aid, 
The  funeral  rites  with  water  paid, 
And  thus  his  speech  to  me  renewed 
Who  stood  in  suppliant  attitude: 
'  Slay  me  this  day,  O,  slay  me,  King, 
For  death  no  longer  has  a  sting. 
Childless  am  I:  thy  dart  has  done 
To  death  my  dear,  my  only  son. 
Because  the  boy  I  loved  so  well 
Slain  by  thy  heedless  arrow  fell, 
My  curse  upon  thy  soul  shall  press 
With  bitter  woe  and  heaviness. 
I  mourn  a  slaughtered  child,  and  thou 
Shalt  feel  the  pangs  that  kill  me  now. 
Bereft  and  suffering  e'en  as  I, 
So  shalt  thou  mourn  thy  son,  and  die. 
Thy  hand  unwitting  dealt  the  blow 
That  laid  a  holy  hermit  low, 
And  distant,  therefore,  is  the  time 
When  thou  shalt  suffer  for  the  crime. 
The  hour  sh  all  come  when,  crushed  by  woea 
Like  these  I  feel,  thy  life  shall  close : 
A  debt  to  pay  in  after  days 
Like  his  the  priestly  fee  who  pays.' 

This  curse  on  me  the  hermit  laid, 
Nor  yet  his  tears  and  groans  were  stayed. 
Then  on  the  pire  their  bodies  cast 
The  pair;  and  straight  to  heaven  they 


As  in  sad  thought  I  pondered  long 
Back  to  my  memory  came  the  wrong 
Done  in  wild  youth,  O  lady  dear, 
When  'twas  my  boast  to  shoot  by  ear. 


172 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


The  deed  has  borne  the  fruit,  which  now 
Hangs  ripe  upon  the  bending  bough  : 
Thus  dainty  meats  the  palate  please, 
And  lure  the  weak  to  swift  disease. 
Now  on  my  soul  return  with  dread 
The  words  that  noble  hermit  said, 
That  I  for  a  dear  son  should  grieve, 
And  of  the  woe  my  life  should  leave.' 

Thus  spake  the  king  with  many  a  tear  ; 
Then  to  his  wife  he  cried  in  fear: 
4 1  cannot  see  thee,  love  ;  but  lay 
Thy  gentle  hand  in  mine,  I  pray. 
Ah  me,  if  Rama  touched  me  thus, 
If  once,  returning  home  to  us, 
He  bade  me  wealth  and  lordship  give, 
Then,  so  I  think,  my  soul  would  live. 
Unlike  myself,  unjust  and  mean 
Have  been  my  ways  with  him,  my  Queen, 
But  like  himself  is  all  that  he, 
My  noble  son,  has  done  to  me. 
His  son,  though  far  from  right  he  stray, 
What  prudent  sire  would  cast  away  ? 
What  banished  son  would  check  his  ire, 
Nor  speak  reproaches  of  his  sire  ? 
I  see  thee  not:  these  eyes  j^row  blind, 
And  memory  quits  my  troubled  mind. 
Angels  of  Death  are  round  me  :  they 
Summon  my  soul  with  speed  away. 
What  woe  more  grievous  can  there  be, 
That,  when  from  light  and  life  I  flee. 
I  may  not.  ere  I  part,  behold 
My  virtuous  Rama,  true  and  bold  ? 
Grief  for  my  son,  the  brave  and  true, 
Whose  joy  it  was  my  will -to  do, 
Dries  up  my  breath,  as  summer  dries 
The  last  drop  in  the  pool  that  lies, 
Not  men,  but  blessed  Gods,  are  they 
Whose  eyes  shall  see  his  face  that  day; 
See  him,  when  fourteen  years  are  past, 
With  earrings  decked  return  at  last. 
My  fainting  mind  forgets  to  think: 
Low  and  more  low  my  spirits  sink. 
Each  from  its  seat,  my  senses  steal: 
I  cannot  hear,  or  taste,  or  feel. 
This  lethargy  of  soul  o'ercornes 
Each  organ,  and  its  function  numbs: 
So  when  the  oil  begins  to  fail, 
The  torch's  rays  grow  faint  and  pale. 
This  flood  of  woe  caused  by  this  hand 
Destroys  me  helpless  and  unmanned, 
Resistless  as  the  floods  that  bore 
A  passage  through  the  river  shore. 
Ah  Kaghu's  son,  ah  mighty-armed, 
By  whom  my  cares    were   soothed  and 

charmed, 

My  son  in  whom  I  took  delight, 
Now^vanished  from  thy  father's  sight  1 
Kausalya  ah,  I  cannot  see  ; 
Sumitra,  gentle  devotee  ! 
Alas,  Kaikeyi,  cruel  dame, 
My  bitter  foe,  thy  father's  shame !' 


Kausalya  and  Sumitra  kept 
Their  watch  beside  him  as  he  wept. 
And  Dasaratha  moaned  and  sighed, 
And  grieving  for  his  darling  died. 

CANTO  LXV. 
THE  WOMEN'S  LAMENT. 

And  now  the  night  had  past  away, 
And  brightly  dawned  another  day: 
The  minstrels,  trained  to  play  and  sing, 
Flocked  to  the  chamber  of  the  king: 
Bards,  who  their  gayest  raiment  wore, 
And  heralds  famed  for  ancient  lore: 
And  singers,  with  their  songs  of  praise, 
Made  music  in  their  several  ways. 
There  as  they  poured  their  blessings  choice, 
And  hailed  their  king  with  hand  and  voice, 
Their  praises  with  a  swelling  roar 
Echoed  through  court  and  corridor. 
Then  as  the  bards  his  glory  sang, 
From  beaten  palms  loud  answer  rang, 
As  glad  applauders  clapped  their  hands, 
And  told  his  deeds  in  distant  lauds. 
The  swelling  concert  woke  a  throng 
Of  sleeping  birds  to  life  and  song : 
Some  in  the  branches  of  the  trees, 
Some  caged  in  halls  and  galleries. 
Nor  was  the  soft  string  music  mute; 
The  gentle  whisper  of  the  lute, 
And  blessings  sung  by  singers  skilled 
The  palace  of  the  monarcli  filled. 
Eunuchs  and  dames  of  life  unstain'ed, 
Each  in  the  arts  of  waiting  trained, 
Drew  near  attentive  as  before, 
And  crowded  to  the  chamber  door  : 
These  skilful  when  aud  how  to  shed 
The  lustral  stream  o'er  limb  and  head, 
Others  with  golden  ewers  stood 
Of  water  stained  with  sandal  wood. 
And  many  a  maid,  pure,  young,  and  fair, 
Her  load  of  early  offerings  bare, 
Cups  of  the  flood  which  all  revere, 
And  sacred  things,  and  toilet  gear. 
Each  several  thing  was  duly  brought 
As  rule  of  old  observance  taught, 
And  lucky  signs  on  each  impressed 
Stamped  it  the  fairest  and  the  best. 
There  anxious,  in  their  long  array, 
All  waited  till  the  shine  of  day  : 
But  when  the  king  nor  rose  nor  spoke, 
Doubt  and  alarm  within  them  woke. 
Forthwith  the  dames,  by  duty  led, 
Attendants  on  the  monarch's  bed, 
Within  the  royal  chamber  pressed 
To  wake  their  master  from  his  rest. 
Skilled  in  the  lore  of  dreaming,  they 
First  touched  the  bed  on  which  he  lay. 
But  none  replied  :  no  sound  was  heard, 


Cam 


,to  LXVL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


173 


Nor  hand,  nor  head,  nor  body  stirred. 
They  trembled,  and  their  dread  increased, 
Fearing  his  breath  of  life  had  ceased, 
And  (lending  low  their  heads,  they  shook 
Like  the.  tali  reeds  that  fringe  the  brook. 
In  doubt  and  terror  down  they  knelt, 
Looked  on  his  fare,  his  cold  hand  felt, 
And  then  the  gloomy  truth  appeared 
Of  all  their  hearts  had  darkly  feared. 
Kauialyaand  Sumitni,  worn 
With  weeping  for  their  sons,  forlorn, 
Woke  not,  but  lay  in  slumber  deep 
And  still  as  death's  unending  sleep. 
Jiowed  down  by  grief,  her  colour  lied, 
Her  wonted  lustre  dull  and  dead, 
Kansalya  shone  not,  like  a,  star 
Obscured  behind  a  cloudy  bar. 
lieside  the  king's  her  couch  was  spread, 
And  next  was  Queen  Sumitra's  bed, 
Who  shone  no  more  with  beauty's  glow, 
Her  >'ace  bedewed  with  tears  of  woe. 
There  lapped  in  sleep  each  wearied  queen, 
There  as  in  sleep,  the.  king  was  seen; 
And  swift  the  troubling  thought  came  o'er 
Their  spirits  that  IK*  breathed  no  more. 
At  once  with  wailing  loud  and  high 
The  matrons  shrieked  a  bitter  cry, 
As  widowed  elephants  bewail 
Their  dead  lord  in  the  woody  vale. 
At  the  loud  shriek  that  round  them  rang, 
Kausalya  and  Snmitra  sprang 
Awakened  from  their  beds,  with  eyes 
Wide  open  in  their  first  surprise. 
Quick  to  the  monarch's  side  they  came, 
And  saw  and  touehed  his  lifeless  frame; 
One  cry,  ()  husband!  forth  they  sent, 
And  prostrate  to  the  ground  they  went. 
The  king  of  Kosal's  daughter1  there 
Writ  bed,  with  the  dust  on  limb  and  hair, 
Lustreless,  as  a,  star  might  lie 
Hurled  downward  from  the  glorious  sky. 
When  the  king's  voice  in  death  was  stilled, 
The  women  who  the  chamber  filled, 
Saw,  like  a  widow  elephant  slain, 
Kausalya  prostrate  in  her  pain. 
Then  a.li  the,  monarch's  ladies  led 
15 y  Queen  Kaikeyi  at  (heir  head, 
'.Poured  forth  their  tears,  and  weeping  so, 
Sank  on  the  ground,  consumed  by  woe. 
The  cry  of  grief  so  long  and  loud 
Went  up  from  all  the  royal  crowd, 
That,  doubled  by  the  matron  train, 
It  made  the  palace  ring  again. 
Killed  with  dark  fear  and  eager  eyes, 
Anxiet;    and  wild  surmise  ; 
Echoing  with  the  cries  of  grief 
Of  sorrowing  friends  who  mourned  their 
chief, 


1  Kausalya,  daughter  of  the  kin^  of  an- 
other Koyiil. 


Dejected,  pnlc  with  deep  distress, 
Miii-led  from  their  height  of  happiness: 
Such  was  the  look  the  palace  wore 
VV  here  lay  the  king  who  breathed  no  more. 

CANTO  LXVI. 


THE  EMBALMING. 

Kausalya's  eyes  with  tears  o'erflowed, 
Weighed  down  by  varied  sorrows'  load  ; 
(  MI  her  dead  lord  her  ga/.e  she  bent, 
Who  lav  like  fire  whose  might  is  Spent 
Like  the  great  deep  with  waters  dry,     ' 
Or  like  the  clouded  sun  on  high. 
Then  on  her  lap  she  laid  his  head, 
And  on  Kaikeyi  looked  and  said  : 
'Triumphant  now  enjoy  thy  reign 
Without  a  thorn  thy  side  to  pain. 
Thou  hast  pursued  thy  single  aim, 
And  killed  the  king,  ()  wicked  dame. 
Ear  from  my  sight  my  llama  Hies, 
My  perished  lord  has  sought  the  skies. 
No  friend,  no  hope  my  life  to  cheer, 
I  cannot  tread  the  dark  path  here.  ' 
Who  would  forsake  her  husband,  who 
That  <*od  to  whom  her  love  is  due. 
And  wish  to  live  one  hour,  but,  she' 
Whose  heart  no  duty  owns,  like  thee  ? 
The  ravenous  sees  no  fault:  his  greed 
Will  e'en  on  poison  blindly  feed. 
Kaikeyi,  through  a,  hump-back  maid, 
This  royal  house  in  death  has  |:,,j,i. 
King  J'anak,  with  his  queen,  will  hear 
Heart-rent  like  me  the  tidings  drear 
Of  Kama,  banished  by  the  king, 
Urged  by  her  impious  counselling. 
No  son  has  he,  his  age  is  great, 
And  sinking  with  the  double  weight, 
He  for  his  darling  child  will  pine, 
And  pierced  with  woe  his  life  resign. 
Sprung  from  Videha's  monarch,  she 
A  sad  and  lovely  devotee, 
Koaming  the  wood,  unmeet  for  woe, 
Will  toil  and  trouble  undergo. 
She  in  the  gloomy  night  with  fear 
The  cries  of  beast  and  bird  will  hear, 
And  trembling  in  her  wild  alarm 
Will  cling  to  Kama's  sheltering  arm. 
Ah,  little  knows  my  duteous  sou 
That  I  am  widowed  and  undone — 
My  Kama  of  the  lotus  eye, 
Gone  hence,  gone  hence,  alas,  to  die. 
Now,  as  a  living  wife  and  true, 
I,  e'en  this  day,  will  perish  too  : 
Around  his  form  these  arms  will  throw, 
And  to  the  fire  with  him  will  go.' 

Clasping  her  husband's  lifeless  clay 
A  while  the  weeping  votaress  lav, 
Till  chamberlains  removed  her  thence 


174 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  1L 


O'ercome  by  sorrow's  violence. 
Then  in  a  cask  of  oil  they  laid 
Him  who  in  life  the  world  had  swayed, 
And  finished,  as  the  lords  desired, 
All  rites  for  parted  souls  required. 
The  lords,  all- wise,  refused  to  burn 
The  monarch  ere  his  son's  return  ; 
So  for  a  while  the  cropse  they  set 
Embalmed  in  oil,  and  waited  yet. 
The  women  heard  :  no  doubt  remained, 
And  wildly  for  the  king  they  plained. 
With  gushing  tears  that  drowned  each  eye 
Wildly  they  waved  their  arms  on  high, 
And  each  her  mangling  nails  impressed 
Beep  in  her  head  and  knee  and  breast: 
*  Of  Rama  reft, — who  ever  spake 
The  sweetest  words  the  heart  to  take, 
Who  firmly  to  the  truth  would  cling,— 
Why  dost  thou  leave  us,  mighty  King? 
How  can  the  consorts  thou  hast  left 
Widowed,  of  Raghu's  son  bereft, 
Live  with  our  foe  Kaikeyi  near, 
.  The  wicked  queen  we  hate  and  fear  ? 
She  threw  away  the  king,  her  spite 
Drove  Earn  a  forth  and  Lakshman's  might, 
And  gentle  Sita:  how  will  she 
Spare  any,  whosoe'er  it  be  ? ' 

Oppressed  with  sorrow,  tear-distained, 
The  royal  women  thus  complained. 
Like  night  when  not  a  star  appears, 
Like  a  sad  widow  drowned  in  tears, 
Ayodhya's  city,  dark  and  dim, 
lleft  of  her  lord  was  sad  for  him. 
When  thus  for  woe  the  king  to  heaven 
had  tied, 

And   still  on    earth   his    lovely   wives 

remained. 
With  dying  light  the  sun  to  rest  had  sped, 

And  night  triumphant  o'er  the  lands- 
cape reigned. 

CANTO  LXVII. 


THE  PRAISE  OF  KINGS. 

That  night  of  sorrow  passed  away, 

And  rose  again  the  God  of  Day. 

Then  all  the  twice-born  peers  of  state 

Together  met  for  high  debate. 

Javali,  lord  of  mighty  fame, 

And  Gautarn,  and  Katyayan  came, 

And  Markandeya'a  reverend  age, 

And  Vamadeva,  glorious  sage: 

Sprung  from  Mudgalya's  seed  the  one, 

The  other  ancient  Kasyap's  son. 

With  lesser  lords  these  Brahmans  each 

8poke  in  his  turn  his  several  speech, 

And  turning  to  Vasish^ha,  best 

Of  household  priests,  him  thus  addressed: 

The  night  of  bitter  woe  has  past, 


Which  seemed  a  hundred  years  to  last, 

Our  king,  in  sorrow  for  his  son, 

Reunion  with  the  Five  has  won. 

His  soul  is  where  the  Blessed  are, 

While  Rama  roams  in  woods  afar, 

Ai.d  Lakshruan,  bright  in  glorious  deeds, 

Goes  where  his  well-loved  broiher  leads. 

And  Bharat  and  &atrughna,  they 

Who  smite  their  foes  in  battle  fray, 

Far  in  the  realm  of  Kekaya  stay, 

Where  their  maternal  grandsire's  care 

Keeps  Rajagriha's  city  fair. 

Let  one  of  old  Ikshvaku's  race 

Obtain  this  day  the  sovereign's  place, 

Or  havoc  and  destruction  straight 

Our  kingless  land  will  devastate. 

In  kingless  lands  no  thunder's  voice. 

No  lightning  wreaths  the  heart  rejoice, 

Nor  does  Parjanya's  heavenly  rain 

Descend  upon  the  burning  plain. 

Where  none  is  king,  the  sower's  hand 

Casts  not  the  seed  upon  the  land  ; 

The  son  against  the  father  strives, 

And  husbands  fail  to  rule  their  wives. 

In  kingless  realms  no  princes  call 

Their  friends  to  meet  in  crowded  hall ; 

No  joyful  citizens  resort 

To  garden  trim  or  sacred  court. 

In  kingless  realms  no  Twice-born  care 

To  sacrifice  with  text  and  prayer, 

Nor  Brahmans,  who  their  vows  maintain, 

The  great  solemnities  ordain. 

The  joys  of  happier  days  have  ceased: 

No  gathering,  festival,  or  feast 

Together  calls  the  merry  throng 

Delighted  with  the  play  and  song. 

In  kingless  lands  it  ne'er  is  well 

With  sons  of  trade  who  buy  and  sell : 

No  men  who  pleasant  tales  repeat 

Delight  the  crowd  with  stories  sweet. 

In  kingless  realms- we  ne'er  behold 

Young  maidens  decked  with  gem  sand  gold, 

Flock  to  the  gardens  blithe  and  gay 

To  spend  their  evening  hours  in  play. 

No  lover  in  the  flying  car 

Hides  with  his  love  to  woods  afar. 

In  kingless  lands  no  wealthy  swain 

Who  keeps  the  herd  arid  reaps  the  grain, 

Lies  sleeping,  blest  with  ample  store, 

Securely  near  his  open  door. 

Upon  the  royal  roads  we  see 

l^o  tusked  elephant  roaming  free, 

Of  three-score  years,  whose  head  and  neck 

Sweet  tinkling  bells  of  silver  deck. 

We  hear  no  more  the  glad  applause 

When  his  strong  bow  each  rival  draws, 

No  clap  of  hands,  no  eager  cries 

That  cheer  each  martial  exercise. 

In  kingless  realms  no  merchant  bands 

Who  travel  forth  to  distant  lands, 

With  precious  wares  their  wagons  load, 


Canto  LX VII L 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


175 


And  fear  no  danger  on  the  road, 
No  sage  secure  in  self-control. 
Brooding  on  God  with  mind  and  soul, 
In  lonely  wanderings  finds  his  home 
Where'er  at  eve  his  feet  may  roam. 
In  Kingless  realms  no  man  is  sure 
He  holds  his  life  and  wealth  secure. 
In  kingless  lands  no  warriors  smite 
The  foeman's  host  in  glorious  right. 
In  kingless  lands  the  wise  no  more, 
Well  trained  in  Scripture's  holy  lore, 
In  shady  groves  and  gardens  meet 
To  argue  in  their  calm  retreat. 
No  longer,  in  religious  fear, 
Do  they  who  pious  vows  revere, 
Bring  dainty  cates  and  wreaths  of  flowers 
As  offerings  to  the  heavenly  powers. 
No  longer,  bright  as  trees  in  spring, 
Shine  forth  the  children  of  the  king 
Resplendent  in  the  people's  eyes 
With  aloe  wood  and  sandal  dyes. 
A  brook  where  water  once  has  been, 
A  grove  where  grass  no  more  is  green, 
Kine  with  no  herdsman's  guiding  hand- 
So  wretched  is  a  kingless  land. 
The  car  its  waving  banner  rears, 
Banner  of  fire  the  smoke  appears  : 
Our  king,  the  banner  of  our  pride, 
A  God  with  Gods  is  glorified. 
In  kingless  lands  no  law  is  known, 
And  none  may  call  his  wealth  his  own, 
Each  preys  on  each  from  hour  to  hour, 
As  fish  the  weaker  fish  devour. 
Then   fearless,  atheists  overleap 
The  bounds  of  right  the  godly  keep, 
And  when  no  royal  powers  restrain, 
Preeminence  and  lordship  gain. 
As  in  the  frame  of  man  the  eye 
Keeps  watch  and  ward,  a  careful  spy, 
The  monarch  in  his  wide  domains 
Protects  the  truth,  the  right  maintains. 
He  is  the  right,  the  truth  is  he, 
Their  hop<^s  in  him  the  well-born  see. 
On  him  his  people's  lives  depend, 
Mother  is  he,  and  sire,  and  friend. 
The  world  were  veiled  in  blinding  night, 
And  none  could  see  or  know  aright, 
Ruled  there  no  king  in  any  state 
The  good  and  ill  to  separate. 
We  will  obey  thy  word  and  will 
As  if  our  king  were  living  still : 
As  keeps  his  bounds  the  faithful  sea, 
So  we  observe  thy  high  decree. 
O  best  of  Brahmans,  first  in  place, 

Our  kingless  land  lies  desolate  : 
Some  scion  of  Ikshvaku's  race 

Do  thou  as  monarch  consecrate.' 


CANTO  LXVIIL 

THE   ENVOYS. 

Vasishtha  heard  their  speech  and  prayer, 
And  thus  addressed  the  concourse  there, 
Friends,  Brahmans,  counsellors,  and  all 
Assembled  in  the  palace  hall : 
'  Ye  know  that  Bharat,  free  from  care, 
Still  lives  in  Kajagriha1  where 
The  father  of  his  mother  reigns  : 
&atrughna  by  his  side  remains. 
Let  active  envoys,  good  at  need, 
Thither  on  fleetest  horses  speed, 
To  bring  the  hero  youths  away  : 
Why  waste  the  time  in  dull  delay?' 

Quick  came  from  all  the  glad  reply  : 
4  Vasishtha,  let  the  envoys  fly.' 
He  heard  their  speech,  and  thus  renewed 
His  charge  before  the  multitude  : 

*  Nandan,  Asok,  Siddharth,  attend, 
Your  ears,  Jayanta,  Vijay,  lend  : 
Be  yours,  what  need  requires,  to  do  : 
I  speak  these  words  to  all  of  you. 
With  coursers  of  the  fleetest  breed 
To  Rajagriha's  city  speed. 

Then  rid  your  bosoms  of  distress, 
And  Bharat  thus  from  me  address  : 

*  The  household  priest  and  peers  by  us 
Send  health  to  thee  and  greet  thee  thus: 
Come  to  thy  father's  home  with  haste  : 
Thine  absent  time  no  longer  waste.' 
But  speak  no  word  of  Rama  fled, 

Tell  not  the  prince  his  sire  is  dead, 
Nor  to  the  royal  youth  the  fate 
That  ruins  Raghu's  race  relate. 
Go  quickly  hence,  and  with  you  bear 
Fine  silken  vestures  rich  and  rare, 
And  gems  and  many  a  precious  thing 
As  gifts  to  Bharat  and  the  king.' 

With  ample  stores  of  food  supplied, 
Each  to  his  home  the  envoys  hied, 
Prepared,  with  steeds  of  swiftest  race, 
To  Kekaya's  land2  their  way  to  trace. 
They  made  all  due  provision  there, 
And  every  need  arranged  with  care, 
Then  ordered  by  Vasishtha,  they 
Went  forth  with  speed  upon  their  way. 
Then  northward  of  Pralamba,  west 
Of  Apartala,  on  they  pressed, 
Crossing  the  Malini  that  flowed 
With  gentle  stream  athwart  the  road. 
They  traversed  Ganga's  holy  waves 


1  Rajagriha,orGirivraja  was  the  capital 
of  Asvapati,  Bharat's  maternal  grand  father. 

s  The  Kekayas  or  Kaikayas  in  the 
Punjab  appear  amongst  the  chief  nations 
in  the  war  of  the  Mahabharata  ;  their  king 
being  a  kinsman  of  Krishna, 


176 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Hooh  II. 


Where  she  Hastinapura1  laves, 
Thence  to  Panchala2  westward  fast 
Through  Kurujangal's  land3  they  passed. 
On,  on  their  course  the  envoys  held 
By  urgency  of  task  impelled. 
Quick  glancing  at  each  lucid  flood 
And  sweet  lake  gay  with  flower  and  bud. 
Beyond,  they  passed  unwearied  o'er, 
Where  glad  birds  till  the  flood  and  shore 
Of  $aradanda  racing  fleet 
With  heavenly  water  clear  and  sweet, 
Thereby  a  tree  celestial  grows 
Which  every  boon  on  prayer  bestows: 
To  its  blest  shade  they  humbly  bent, 
Then  to  Kulinga's  town  they  went. 
Then,  having  passed  the  Warrior's  Wood, 
In  Abhikala  next  they  stood, 
O'er  sacred  Ikshumati4  came, 
Their  ansient  kings'  ancestral  claim, 
They  saw  the  learned  Brahmans  stand, 
Each  drinking  from  his  hollowed  hand, 
And  through  Bahika5  journeying  still 
They  reached  at  length  Sudaman's  hill : 
There  Vishnu's  footstep  turned  to  see, 
Vipasa6  viewed,  and  Salmali, 
And  many  a  lake  and  river  met, 
Tank,  pool,  and  pond,  and  rivulet. 
And  lions  saw,  and  tigers  near, 
And  elephants  and  herds  of  deer, 
And  still,  by  prompt  obedience  led, 
Along  the  ample  road  they  sped. 
Then  when  their  course  so  swift  and  long, 
Had  worn  their  steeds  though  fleet  and 

strong, 

To  Girivraja's  splendid  town 
They  came  by  night,  and  lighted  down. 


1  Hastinapura  was  the  capital  of  the 
kingdom  of  Kuru,  near  the  modern  Delhi. 

*  The  Panchalas  occupied  the  upper  part 
of  the  Doab, 

3  '  Kurujangala  and  its  inhabitants  are 
frequently  mentioned  in  the  Mahdbhdrata, 
as  in  the  Adi-parv.  3789,  4337,  et  ai: 
WILSON'S  Vishnu  Pur  ana.  Vol.  II.  p.  176. 
DR.  HALL'S  Note. 

*  '  The  "O^vfjiaTig  of  Arrian.    See  As. 
Res.  Vol   XV.   p.   420,  421,  also  Indische 
AltertJiumskunde,Vol.  I.  p.  602,  first  foot- 
note.'    WILSON'S  Vishnu  Parana,  Vol.  I. 
p.  421.  DR.  HALL'S  Edition.  The  Ikshumati 
was  a  river  in  Kurukshetra. 

5  '  The  Bahikas  are  described  in  the 
Mahabharata,  Karna  Parvan,  with  some 
detail,  and  comprehend  the  different  na- 
tions of  the  Punjab  from  the  Sutlej  to  the 
Indus.'  WILSON'S  Vishnu  Purdna.  Vol.  I. 
p.  167. 

6  The  Beas,  Hyphasis,  or  Bibasis. 


To  please  their  master,  and  to  guard 
The  royal  race,  the  lineal  right, 
The  envoys,  spent  with  riding  hard, 
To  that  fair  city  came  by  night.1 

CANTO  LXIX. 


BHARAT'S  DREAM. 

The  night  those  messengers  of  state 
Had  past  within  the  city's  gate, 
In  dreams  the  slumbering  Bharatsaw 
A  sight  that  chilled  his  soul  with  awe. 
The  dream  that  dire  events  foretold 
Left  Bharat's  heart  with  horror  cold, 

1  It  would  be  lost  labour  to  attempt  to 
verify  all  the  towns  and  streams  mention- 
ed in  Cantos  LXVIII  and  LXXII.  Pro- 
fessor Wilson  observes  ( Vishnu  Purdna, 
p.  139.  Dr.  Hall's  Edition)  'States,  and 
tribes,  and  cities  have  disappeared,  even 
from  recollection  ;  and  some  of  the  natural 
features  of  the  country,  especially  the 
rivers,  have  undergone  a  total  alteration 


Notwithstanding  these  impediments,  how- 
ever,  we  should  be  able  to  identify  at  least 
mountains  and  rivers,  to  a  much  greater 
extent  than  is  now  practicable,  if  our 
maps  were  not  so  miserably  defective  in 
their  nomenclature.  None  of  .our  surve- 
yors or  geographers  have  been  oriental 
scholars.  It  may  be  doubted  if  any  of  them 
have  been  conversant  with  the  spoken 
language  of  the  country.  They  have,  con- 
sequently, put  down  names  at  random,  ac- 
cording to  their  own  inaccurate  appre- 
ciation of  sounds  carelessly,  vulgarly,  and 
corruptly  uttered ;  and  their  maps  of 
India  are  crowded  with  appellations  which 
bear  no  similitude  whatever  either  to  past 
or  present  denominations.  We  need  not 
wonder  that  we  cannot  discover  Sanskrit 
names  in  English  maps,  when,  in  the  im- 
mediate vicinity  of  Calcutta,  Barnagore 
represents  Barahanagar,  Dakshineswar  is 
metamorphosed  into  Duckinsore,  and  Ulu- 

baria  into  Willoughbury.... There 

is  scarcely  a  name  in  our  Indian  maps 
that  does  not  afford  proof  of  extreme  in- 
difference to  accuracy  in  nomenclature, 
and  of  an  incorrectness  in  estimating 
sounds,  which  is,  in  some  degree,  perhaps, 
a  national  defect.' 

For  further  information  regarding  the 
road  from  Ayodhya  to  Rajagriha,  see 
Additional  Notes* 


Canto  LXX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


177 


And  with  consuming  woes  distraught, 
Upon  his  aged  sire  he  thought. 
His  dear  companions,  swift  to  traoe 
The  signs  of  anguish  on  his  face, 
Drew  near,  his  sorrow  to  expel, 
And  pleasant  tales  began  to  tell. 
Some  woke  sweet  music's  cheering  sound, 
And  others  danced  in  lively  round. 
With  joke  and  jest  they  strove  to  raise 
His  spirits,  quoting  ancient  plays  ; 
But  Bharat  still,  the  lofty-souled, 
Deaf  to  sweet  tales  his  fellows  told, 
Unmoved  by  music,  dance,  and  jest, 
Sat  silent,  by  his  woe  oppressed. 
To  him,  begirt  by  comrades  near, 
Thus  spoke  the  friend  he  held  most  dear  : 
4  Why  ringed  around  by  friends,  art  thou 
So  silent  and  so  mournful  now?' 
'  Hear  thou,'  thus  Bharat  made  reply, 
*  What  chills  my  heart  and  dims  mine  eye. 
I  dreamt  I  saw  the  king  my  sire 
Sink  headlong  in  a  lake  of  mire 
Down  from  a  mountain  high  in  air, 
His  body  soiled,  and  loose  his  hair. 
Upon  the  miry  lake  he  seemed 
To  lie  and  welter,  as  I  dreamed  ; 
With  hollowed  hands  full  many  a  draught 
Of  oil  he  took,  and  loudly  laughed. 
With  head  cast  down  1  saw  him  make 
A  meal  on  sesamum  and  cake  ; 
The  oil  from  every  member  dripped, 
And  in  its  clammy  flood  he  dipped. 
The  ocean's  bed  was  bare  and  dry, 
The  moon  had  fallen  from  the  s^ 
And  all  the  world  lay  still  and  dead, 
With  whelming  darkness  overspread. 
The  earth  was  rent  and  opened  wide, 
The  leafy  trees  were  scorched,  and  died  ; 
I  saw  the  seated  mountains  split, 
And  wreaths  of  rising  smoke  emit. 
The  stately  beast  the  monarch  rode 
His  long  tusks  rent  and  splintered  showed  ; 
And  flames  that  quenched  and  cold  had  lain 
Blazed  forth  with  kindled  light  again. 
I  looked,  and  many  a  handsome  dame, 
Arrayed  in  brown  and  sable  came 
And  bore  about  the  monarch,  dressed, 
On  iron  stool,  in  sable  vest. 
And  then  the  king,  of  virtuous  mind, 
A  blood-red  wreath  around  him  twined, 
Forth  on  an  ass-drawn  chariot  sped, 
As  southward  still  he  bent  his  head. 
Then,  crimson-clad,  a  dame  appeared 
Who  at  the  monarch  laughed  and  jeered  ; 
And  a  she-monster,  dire  to  view, 
Her  hand  upon  his  body  threw. 
Such  is  the  dream  I  dreamt  by  night, 
Which  chills  me  yet  with  wild  affright  : 
Either  the  king  or  Rama,  I 
Or  Lakshman  now  must  surely  die. 
For  when  an  ass-drawn  chariot  seems 


To  bear  away  a  man  in  dreams, 

Be  sure  above  his  funeral  pyre 

The  smoke  soon  rears  its  cloudy  spire. 

This  makes  my  spirit  low  and  weak, 

My  tongue  is  slow  and  loth  to  speak: 

My  lips  and  throat  are  dry  for  dread, 

And  all  my  soul  disquieted. 

My  lips,  relaxed,  can  hardly  speak, 

And  chilling  dread  has  changed  my  cheek 

I  blame  myself  in  aimless  fears, 

And  still  no  cause  of  blame  appears. 

I  dwell  upon  this  dream  of  ill 

Whose  changing  scenes  I  viewed, 
And  on  the  startling  horror  still 

My  troubled  thoughts  will  brood. 
Still  to  my  soul  these  terrors  cling, 

Reluctant  to  depart, 
And  the  strange  vision  of  the  king 

Still  weighs  upon  my  heart,' 

CANTO  LXX. 
BHARAT'S  DEPARTURE. 

While  thus  he  spoke,  the  envoys  borne 
On  horses  faint  and  travel-worn 
Had  gained  the  city  fenced  around 
With  a  deep  moat's  protecting  bound. 
An  audience  of  the  king  they  gained, 
And  honours  from  the  prince  obtained  ; 
The  monarch's  feet  they  humbly  pressed, 
To  Bharat  next  these  words  addressed  : 
'  The  household  priest  and  peers  by  us 
Send  health  to  thee  and  greet  thee  thus  : 
*  Come  to  thy  father's  house  with  haste  : 
Thine  absent  time  no  longer  waste. 
Keceive  these  vestures  rich  and  rare, 
These  costly  gems  and  jewels  fair, 
And  to  thy  uncle  here  present 
Each  precious  robe  and  ornament. 
These  for  the  king  and  him  suffice—- 
Two hundred  millions  is  their  price— 
These,  worth  a  hundred  millions,  be 
Reserved.  O  large-eyed  Prince,  for  thee.1 

Loving  his  friends  with  heart  and  soul, 
The  joyful  prince  received  the  whole, 
Due  honour  to  the  envoys  paid, 
And  thus  in  turn  his  answer  made  : 
'  Of  Dasaratha  tidings  tell  : 
Is  the  old  king  my  father  well  ? 
Is  Rama,  and  is  Lakshman,  he 
Of  the  high-soul,  from  sickness  free  ? 
And  she  who  walks  where  duty  leads, 
Kauialy&,  known  for  gracious  deeds, 
Mother  of  Rama,  loving  spouse, 
Bound  to  her  lord  by  well  kept  vows  ? 
And  Lakshman's  mother  too,  the  dame 
Sumitra  skilled  in  duty's  claim, 
Who  brave  Satrughna  also  bare, 
Second  in  age,— her  health  declare. 


173 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  12. 


And  she,  in  self-conceit  most  sage, 
With  selfish  heart  most  prone  to  rage, 
My  mother,  fares  she  well  ?  has  she 
Sent  message  or  command  to  me  ?' 

Thus  Bharat  spake,  the  mighty- soul ed, 
And  they  in  brief  their  tidings  told  : 
'  All  they  of  whom  thou  askest  dwell, 
O  lion  lord,  secure  and  well  : 
Thine  all  the  smiles  of  fortune  are  : 
Make  ready;  let  them  yoke  the  car.' 

Thus  by  the  royal  envoys  pressed, 
Bharat  again  the  band  addressed  : 
'  I  go  with  you  :  no  long  delay, 
A  single  hour  I  bid  you  stay.' 
Thus  Bharat,  son  of  him  who  swayed 
Ayodhyas  realm,  his  answer  made, 
And  then  bespoke,  his  heart  to  please, 
His  mother's  sire  in  words  like  these ; 
*  I  go  to  see  my  father,  King, 
Urged  by  the  envoys'  summoning  ; 
And  when  thy  soul  desires  to  see 
Thy  grandson,  will  return  to  thee.* 

The  king  his  grandsire  kissed  his  head, 
And  in  reply  to  Bharat  said : 
'  Go  forth,  dear  child  ;  how  blest  is  she, 
The  mother  of  a  son  like  thee ! 
Greet  well  thy  sire,  thy  mother  greet, 
O  thou  whose  arms  the  foe  defeat ; 
The  household  priest,  and  all  the  rest 
Amid  the  Twice-born  chief  and  best ; 
And  Rama  and  brave  Lakshman,  who 
Shoot  the  long  shaft  with  aim  so  true.' 

To  him  the  king  high  honour  showed, 
And  store  of  wealth  and  gifts  bestowed, 
The  choicest  elephants  to  ride, 
And  skins  and  blankets  deftly  dyed, 
A  thousand  strings  of  golden  beads, 
And  sixteen  hundred  mettled  steeds  ; 
And  boundless  wealth  before  him  piled 
Gave  Kekaya  to  Kaikeyi's  child. 
And  men  of  counsel,  good  and  tried, 
On  whose  firm  truth  he  aye  relied, 
King  Asvapati  gave  with  speed 
Prince  Bharat  on  his  way  to  lead. 
And  noble  elephants,  strong  and  young, 
From  sires  of  Indrasira  sprung, 
And  others  tall  and  fair  to  view 
Of  great  Airavat's  lineage  true  : 
And  well  yoked  asses  fleet  of  limb 
The  prince  his  uncle  gave  to  him. 
Arid  dogs  within  the  palace  bred, 
Of  body  vast  and  massive  head, 
With  mighty  fangs  for  battle,  brave, 
The  tiger's  match  in  strength,  he  gave. 
Yet  Bharat's  bosom  hardly  glowed 
To  see  the  wealth  the  king  bestowed; 
For  he  would  speed  that  hour  away, 
Such  care  upon  his  bosom  lay : 
Those  eager  envoys  urged  him  thence, 
And  that  sad  vision's  influence. 
He  left  hia  court-yard,  crowded  then 


With  elephants  and  steeds  and  men, 

And,  peerless  in  immortal  fame, 

To  the  great  royal  street  he  came. 

He  saw,  as  farther  still  he  went, 

The  inner  rooms  most  excellent, 

And  passed  the  doors,  to  him  unclosed, 

Where  check  nor  bar  his  way  pppossd. 

There  Bharat  stayed  to  bid  adieu 

To  grandsire  and  to  uncle  too, 

Then,  with  ^atrughna  by  his  side, 

Mounting  his  car,  away  he  hied. 

The  strong-wheeled  cars  were  yoked,  and 

they 

More  than  a  hundred,  rolled  away  : 
Servants,  with  horses,  asses,  kine, 
Followed  their  lord  in  endless  line. 
So,  guarded  by  his  own  right  hand, 

Forth  high-souled  Bharat  hied, 
Surrounded  by  a  lordly  band 

On  whom  the  king  relied. 
Beside  him  sat  $atrughna  dear, 

The  scourge  of  trembling  foes  : 
Thus  from  the  light  of  Indra's  sphere 

A  saiut  made  perfect  goes. 


CANTO  LXXI. 


BHARAT'S  RETURN. 

Then  Bharat's  face  was  eastward  bent 
As  from  the  royal  town  he  went. 
He  reached  Sudama's  farther  side, 
And  glorious,  gazed  upon  the  tide  ; 
Passed  Hladini,  arid  saw  her  toss 
Her  westering  billows  hard  to  cross. 
Then  old  Ikshvdku's  famous  sou 
O'er  Satadru1  his  passage  won, 
Near  Ailadhana  on  the  strand, 
And  came  to  Aparparyat's  land. 
O'er  Vila's  flood  he  hurried  fast, 
Akurvati's  fair  stream  he  passed, 
Crossed  o'er  Agneya's  rapid'rill, 
And  Salyakartan  onward  still. 
6ilavaha's  swift  stream  he  eyed, 
True  to  his  vows  and  purified, 
Then  crossed  the  lofty  hills,  and  stood 
In  Chaitraratha's  mighty  wood. 
He  reached  the  confluence  where  meet 
Sarasvati2  and  Ganga  fleet, 
And  through  Bharunda  forest,  spread 
Northward  of  Viramatsya,  sped. 
He  sought  Kalinda's  child,  who  fills 


1  'The  £atadru,  '  the  hundred-channel- 
led ' — the  Zaradrus  of  Ptolemy,  Hesydrua 
of  Pliny— is  the  Sutlej.'  WILSON'S  Vishnu 
Purdna,  Vol.  II.  p.  130. 

2  The  Sarasvati  or  Sursooty  is  a  tri- 
butary of  the  Caggar  or  Guggur  in  Sirhind. 


Canto  LXXL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


179 


The  soul  with  joy,  begirt  by  hills, 

Beached  Yamuna,  and  passing  o'er, 

Kested  his  army  on  the  shore  : 

He  gave  his  horses  food  and  rest, 

Bathed  reeking  limb  and  drooping  crest. 

They  drank  their  fill  and  bathed  them  there, 

And  water  for  their  journey  bare. 

Thence  through  a  mighty  wood  he  sped 

All  wild  and  uninhabited, 

As  in  fair  chariot  through  the  skies, 

Most  fair  in  shape  a  Storui-God  flies. 

At  Ansudhana  Ganga,  hard 

To  cross,  his  onward  journey  barred, 

So  turning  quickly  thence  he  came 

To  Pragvat's  city  dear  to  fame, 

There  having  gained  the  farther  side 

To  Kutikoshtika  he  hied  : 

The  stream  he  crossed,  and  onward  then 

To  Dharmavardhan  brought  his  men. 

Thence,  leaving  Toran  on  the  north, 

To  Jambuprastha  journeyed  forth. 

Then  onward  to  a  pleasant  grove 

By  fair  Varutha's  town  he  drove, 

And  when  a  while  he  there  had  stayed, 

Went  eastward  from  the  friendly  shade. 

Eastward  of  Qjjihana  where 

The  Priyak  trees  are  tall  and  fair, 

He  parsed,  and  rested  there  each  steed 

•Exhausted  with  the  journey's  speed. 

There  orders  to  his  men  addressed, 

With  quickened  pace  he  onward  pressed, 

A  while  at  Sarvatirtha  spent, 

Then  o'er  Uttanika  he  went. 

O'er  many  a  stream  beside  he  sped 

With  coursers  on  the  mountains  bred, 

And  passing  Hastiprishthak,  took 

The  road  o'er  Kutika's  fair  brook. 

Then,  at  Lohitya's  village,  he 

Crossed  o'er  the  swift  Kapivati, 

Then  passed,  where  Ekasala  stands, 

The  Sthanumati's  flood  and  sands, 

And  Gomati  of  fair  renown 

By  Vinata's  delightful  town. 

When  to  Kalinga  near  he  drew, 

A  wood  of  Sal  trees  charmed  the  view  ; 

That  passed,  the  sun  began  to  rise, 

And  Bharat  saw  with  happy  eyes, 

Ayodhya's  city,  built  and  planned 

By  ancient  M ami's  royal  hand. 

Seven  nights  upon  the  road  had  passed, 

And  when  he  saw  the  town  at  last 

Before  him  in  her  beauty  spread, 

Thus  Bharat  to  the  driver  said  : 

*  This  glorious  city  from  afar, 

Wherf :in  pure  groves  and  gardens  are, 

Seems  to  my  eager  eyes  to-day 

A  lifeless  pile  of  yellow  clay. 

Through  all  her  streets  where  erst  a  throng 

Of  men  and  women  streamed  along, 

Uprose  the  multitudinous  roar  :    . 

To-day  I  hear  that  sonnd  no  more. 


No  longer  do  mine  eyes  behold 

The  leading  people,  as  of  old, 

On  elephants,  cars,  horses,  go 

Abroad  and  homeward,  to  and  fro. 

The  brilliant  gardens,  where  we  heard 

The  wild  note  of  each  rapturous  bird, 

Where  men  and  women  loved  to  meet, 

In  pleasant  shades,  for  pastime  sweet, — 

These  to  my  eyes  this  day  appear 

Joyless,  and  desolate,  and  drear  : 

Each  tree  that  graced  the  garden  grieves, 

And  every  patli  is  spread  with  leaves. 

The  merry  cry  of  bird  and  beast, 

That  spake  aloud  their  joy,  has  ceased  : 

Still  is  the  long  melodious  note 

That  charmed  us  from  each  warbling  throat. 

Why  blows  the  blessed  air  no  more, 

The  incense-breathing  air  that  bore 

Its  sweet  incomparable'scent 

Of  sandal  and  of  aloe  blent  ? 

Why  are  the  drum  and  tabour  mute  ? 

Why  is  the  music  of  the  lute 

That  woke  responsive  to  the  quill. 

Loved  by  the  happy,  hushed  and  still? 

My  boding  spirit  gathers  hence 

Dire  sins  of  awful  consequence, 

And  omens,  crowding  on  my  sight, 

Weigh  down  my  soul  with  wild  affright. 

Scarce  shall  I  h'nd  my  friends  who  dwell 

Here  in  Ayodhya  safe  and  well : 

For  surely  not  without  a  cause 

This  crushing  dread  my  soul  o'erawes,' 

Heart-sick,  dejected,  every  sense 
Confused  by  terror's  influence, 
On  to  the  town  he  quickly  swept 
Which  King  Ikshvaku's  children  kept. 
He  passed  through  Vaijayanta's  gate, 
With  weary  steeds,  disconsolate, 
And  all  who  near  their  station  held, 
His  escort,  crying  Victory,  swelled, 
With  heart  distracted  still  he  bowed 
Farewell  to  all  the  following  crowd, 
Turned  to  the  driver  and  began 
To  question  thus  the  weary  man  : 
'Why  was  I  brought,  O  free  from  blame, 
So  fast,  unknown  for  what  I  came? 
Yet  fear  of  ill  my  heart  appals, 
And  all  my  wonted  courage  falls. 
For  I  have  heard  in  days  gone  by 
The  changes  seen  when  monarchs  die  ; 
And  all  those  signs,  O  charioteer, 
I  see  to-day  surround  me  here  : 
Each  kinsman's  house  looks  dark  and  grim, 
No  hand  delights  to  keep  it  trim  : 
The  beauty  vanished,  and  the  pride, 
The  doo